Sold!
by Talifornia
Summary: In his sixth year, Draco finds himself property of the Ministry after his mother and father are sent to Azkaban for life. Now, Draco has to decide just what he's going to do to survive on his own. Surprise ending!
1. Chapter One: Sold

SOLD  
  
Chapter One  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes focusing on the tall, dark walls of Malfoy Manor before him. He knew he had to get a good look now and imprint the sight of it in his mind so that he'd always remember the old mansion. This could, after all, be his very last time ever seeing it. Moment's before its lawn had been teeming with company, mudbloods and trash that Draco had always hoped would burn up and die if they ever got too close to his parents house.  
  
Sold!  
  
All of his personal belongings.  
  
Sold!  
  
His mother's clothes and father's books.  
  
Sold!  
  
All those important things he was never allowed to touch.  
  
Sold!  
  
His memories and livelihood, his past and future and all the Malfoy secrets.  
  
Sold. All of it gone for mere knuts, a handful of galleons and sickles exchanged for treasures of priceless value into the grubby, greedy fingers of Muggle-loving rubbish. Draco had been forced to stand by and watch, do nothing but watch the tentative auction unfold that ended in his complete destitution and poverty. Now, they were all gone, the final thief hauling away his steal down the street in a cart that looked like it would break under the sheer value of its cargo, too cheap and rundown itself for such precious weight.  
  
The vultures left Malfoy Manor a shell, its front lawn littered with tiny white auction papers and other bits of rumpled garbage. The once proud estate, standing on top of a hill looking down at the wizarding town that surrounded it, had been reduced and gutted. There wasn't anything there to look up to now. There wasn't anything there at all.  
  
"Come along, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
The oily voice of Professor Snape beside him earned a glance, Draco's gray narrowed eyes and then relaxed as Snape looked back at him. There wasn't anything particularly soft in the Professor's eyes or the thin line of his mouth but it was a small reassurance to be next to him anyway. Professor Snape had always favored Draco in school, and even if he was a part of the rotten bunch that had done this to him, he was better company than could have been provided him.   
  
Snape hardly gave his charge a moment to think about this before he was turning and leading the way back down the path that lead to the street and to the Ministry car that waited for them.  
  
Draco faltered as Snape opened the car door and held it for him. He'd never exactly been in a car before, or had he wanted to be. His parents traveled in a very expensive carriage, much more comfortable than he thought a machine of metal could ever be.   
  
"Malfoy."  
  
Snape was beginning to sound annoyed but it didn't spur Draco on at all. Once he got in that car, after all, there wouldn't be any turning back. Once he got into that car, everything would start and there wouldn't be anything that could stop it. At the same time, he almost didn't mind. It wouldn't be terrible if things could change, if he could change, and if he could be the one to make them happen.  
  
"Malfoy, get in the car."  
  
His hands clenching into fists at his sides, Draco turned and looked up at the black-eyed, hook-nosed face of his favorite Professor. "I don't have to you know," He began, gently prodding the hypothetical. "You don't ha–"  
  
"In, Draco." Snape started into the car himself and instead of being climbed over, Draco regrettably got in, slid down the long back seat to the far side against the window. Snape sat down beside him, closing the door and with a glance back at them in the rearview mirror, the Ministry's driver pulled away from the curb.  
  
Draco closed his eyes as soon as the vehicle began to move, his fingers gripping the edge of the leather seat beside his knees. He knew if he opened his eyes again he would want to turn around and look at his house. There was always one more glance he would have to have and he would see it slowly, slowly fade growing smaller as they left it behind. The structures and towers would blend together, indistinguishable. The hedge maze in the backyard, his mother's beautiful gardens would all smear into a mess of shaded green.   
  
He couldn't turn around to watch it though, what would they think of him? Professor Snape and this Ministry official would laugh at him, kneeling on his seat and pressing his face up against the back window watching his Death Eater home and his Death Eater life fade into a memory.  
  
Well, that probably wasn't true. Draco was sure that Professor Snape didn't even know how to laugh .  
  
The thought of leaving Malfoy Manor behind, his life and parents behind, balled up in his chest, a tight nugget of fear. Everything he knew he was slowly driving away from and even though he'd been a part of the Wizarding world all of his life, nothing that awaited him was familiar. Alone. Draco Malfoy was going to be all alone and not to mention poor, at the hands of his worst enemies.   
  
His eyes snapped open and without thinking Draco twisted around to glance out the back window, gray eyes sweeping from side to side swiftly, searching. Where was it? Where had his house gone? How could they be this far away already?  
  
"It's already passed, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
Draco stopped his searching, Snape was right. There wasn't any sign of his house now. He turned around, looking instead at the back of the driver's head before closing his eyes again and sitting back in his seat. So this was the end.  
  
****  
  
"Daddy, I'm bored!" Draco announced, as he tossed open the door to his father's study.  
  
Lucius Malfoy looked up from over the edges of a short stack of papers he held in one hand, a quill in the other. At the sight of his only son, the stately patriarch tossed the papers lightly down onto his desk. "Draco. Go bother your mother."  
  
"I don't want to." Draco sulked, swinging the door lazily back and forth on its hinges. "She told me to go outside."  
  
"Well that sounds like good advice to me." Lucius insisted and setting his quill back into its stand, he folded his hands over his desk.  
  
"There's nothing to do outside!" The boy protested, his eyes widening slightly. He stepped all the way into his father's office and closed the door loudly.  
  
"Don't slam the door."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Lucius knew Draco wasn't sorry. His son placed his hands on his desk and leaned over them, resting his chin over his folded fingers. "It's the same old boring backyard as ever."  
  
"Well then perhaps you should go into town." Lucius reclined in his chair watching his boy with an arched brow. Draco was a chore, more work than he had thought a son would be when he and Narcissa first decided that they ought to have one.  
  
"I don't want to go into town!" Draco whined again. "Daddy, it's full of rotten muggle-lovers." He sank to his knees so the only thing left on the desk were his fingertips, clinging to the hard wood. "They smell funny and give me weird looks."  
  
"What kind of weird looks?" The eldest Malfoy smirked, rising just slightly from his seat to try and get a better look at Draco, although he could only see the boy's pale arms.  
  
"They're jealous," Draco insisted and soon his fingers disappeared all together. "They wish they were as good as I am."  
  
"I see." When he felt little fingers and little shoulders brush past his calves, Lucius rolled back in his chair and with one hand on the edge of his desk, he leaned over to look beneath it.   
  
Draco peered back at him with owlish gray eyes.  
  
"I don't see how you can be so bored, little Dragon, you're still only a baby. You haven't even gone to school yet. You hardly know anything at all." He smirked at the withering look the boy beneath his desk gave him.  
  
"That's not true!" He snapped back. "I'm not a baby and I know a lot of things! A lot more things than you do!"  
  
"Is that so?" Lucius smiled.  
  
"Yes! It's so! And I'll go to stupid Hogwarts pretty soon! I'm not a little kid you know!"  
  
"Draco, you won't be going to school for four years, yet. That's more than half the years you've been alive."  
  
"So?" His son shot back in defiance.  
  
"So, indeed." Slowly, Lucius tucked his chair back under his desk, then, mindful of the boy curled up there as well. Between his feet, Draco was quiet and as Lucius reclaimed his work and his quill, he felt his son's arms wrap tightly around one of his legs. Draco hugged his father's leg, pressing his cheek against his shin. It was true that parenting was a big hassle, but sometimes it had the ability to make you feel good.  
  
****  
  
When Draco woke up, it was because the car had stopped and because Snape had shaken his shoulder lightly. "Mr. Malfoy," He said the waspish voice he used whenever one of his students was doing something he didn't approve of. "We've arrived. Get out, your things should be retrieved from the trunk."  
  
They were here? The blonde rubbed his eyes, slowly taking his fingers away to peek over the top of them. They were here, finally, at a place he'd never been before. The house the car had parked in front of looked like it hadn't been lived in for years, derelict and old, just about ready to fall apart and filthy.  
  
He grimaced and after one more moment of examination he pushed open the door to the car and stepped out. The Ministry driver had already opened the trunk and was pulling out Draco's school trunk. He'd only been allowed one trunk to put in everything he needed to take with him.  
  
"Here ya go, lad." The Ministry wizard let his trunk clunk loudly to the floor as he got it out of the back of the car and Draco winced as it hit the asphalt.  
  
"Be careful with that, you idiot!" He snapped his hands clenching together as he lifted a fist. "There are valuable things inside there you r–"  
  
"Enough!" Snape interrupted him with a sharp no-nonsense tone. "Follow me, take your things with you." And he started towards the black front door of the building.  
  
Draco looked from his professor's narrow and swiftly retreating back to his trunk. "How–how am I supposed to carry this by myself?" He asked, incredulous and made the mistake of glancing at the Ministry wizard.  
  
The man shrugged his shoulders with an all too pleased smirk on his face and then got back into the car and drove away.  
  
"W-Wait!" Draco snapped, his gray eyes switching from Snape to the disappearing car quickly. Eventually he gave up his sputtering with a sigh and picked up the end of his trunk.  
  
"Hurry up, we can't stand around in the street all day, Malfoy!" Snape was beginning to sound cross as he called from the front porch, turning to the house to lift the silver serpent knocker and demand entrance.  
  
"Bloody–" Draco hissed and dragged his trunk a few feet towards the curb. He couldn't stand the sound of the wood being torn up by the tiny rocks on the road. "Professor, can't you just–"  
  
"No." The front door opened then and Draco was surprised to see none other than Professor Lupin standing behind it.  
  
The man looked older than Draco had remembered, not that he really payed attention to him all that much in class anyway. He dropped his trunk halfway up the house's front lawn and stubbornly sat down on the lid. There was no way he was going into a house with that freak of nature. Lupin wasn't even human!  
  
"Severus," No matter who was on the other side of the door, Draco was sure Remus would have greeted them with the same warm smile, Death Eaters aside. "Why don't you help the boy? It's a little mean to make him carry that all the way, isn't it?"  
  
"He can do it." Snape replied and stepped aside as Lupin opened the door all the way and moved out onto the porch. He watched as the haggard old-young man went to help Draco with his trunk and with a derisive snort, stepped inside the house on his own.  
  
On the trunk, Draco stiffened at the sight of the approaching man and wished, not for the first time since all of this had started, that his wand wasn't buried at the bottom of all his things.   
  
"Ready?" Lupin asked as he picked up the rear of the trunk.  
  
Draco sent him a narrowed glare and slid off the end of the trunk. "Ha." He said and frowning, grabbed the front of the trunk and followed Snape up and into the house. It didn't look like he'd have much of a choice, anyway, even if he didn't want to. They looked like they would force him into the house one way or the other.  
  
He took a moment to glance around his new surroundings, his disgust twisting his frown deeper and deeper into a sneer of repulsion. This house had to only still be standing thanks to magic. Although it was obvious there had been some attempt at cleaning it up, there wasn't any way the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet could ever be made into something presentable. "Professor!" Draco said loudly and promptly dropped his end of the trunk with a loud thunk.  
  
Lupin and Snape winced at the same time. And then...  
  
Screams, unlike those Draco had ever heard of, erupted from somewhere on the ground floor. The blonde quickly lifted his hands, slapping them over his ears as the tortured, blood-curdling cries were soon echoed by many more. He'd never heard people scream like that before, not even from the secret room beneath his drawing room floor!  
  
Lupin had run up the stairs towards a large set of moth-eaten, moldy curtains. Draco realized then that it was the portraits on the walls that were screaming at him, all of them and at the lead of whatever it was behind those curtains that Lupin was trying to keep covered.  
  
"Malfoy!" Snape had turned his wrath onto Draco and the boy gasped as his potion's professor grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away from the screaming portraits and Lupin and down a hallway.  
  
"Never," Snape growled as he propelled Draco into a room "ever make noise like that in the hallways!" He ordered. "You'll wake up that wretched woman and force all of us to suffer, do you understand me?"  
  
"What is that?" Draco asked, his eyes as round as galleons as his hands lowered from his ears. Even though they were some distance away he could still hear the portrait screaming and ranting.  
  
"Vile beast! Diseased freak! How dare you stain the house of my fathers, you--"  
  
"Just sit down." Snape replied and for the first time Draco realized that he was in a kitchen. He sat down at the heavy dining table after brushing off the seat with a handkerchief. "There was a big debate over what to do with you, Draco," Snape explained. " I had to spend more time than I wanted to arguing and reasoning to get them to accept you here."  
  
"Oh how positively brill, professor. Thanks." Draco replied sarcastically, sinking back into his chair and folding his arms over his chest.  
  
  
  
"You should be thankful." Snape scowled as Lupin finally rejoined them, looking exhausted even through his weary smile. The werewolf took out a plate and began to prepare some sort of meal, Draco didn't want to pay attention. "They were going to stick you with a foster parent, or even in a home for lost boys."  
  
The corner of Draco's mouth twitched in a way that made Snape smile.  
  
"There are still some important things for you to know and understand, however." The potions master continued. "You are now a property of the Ministry. With both of your parents unfit and in prison without any chance of ever being set free, you are nearly an orphan. Until you graduate from Hogwarts and become a full, independent wizard, you are under the control of the Ministry."  
  
Lupin set down a sandwich in front of Draco and a mug of juice. He looked down at the lunch and then squinted up at the old Defense teacher who smiled back at him. Lupin left before Draco had a chance to glower at him properly.  
  
"The Ministry," Professor Snape continued, drawing his attention away from Lupin's back "has given you into our care, The Order of the Pheonix, for obvious reasons."  
  
"What reasons?" Draco interrupted. He couldn't think of a single good reason to give him into the hands of a group of wayward freedom fighters, even if they had been recognized and accepted by Fudge as an honored group of combatants against the now threatening Dark Lord.  
  
"Mainly," Snape looked more than a little annoyed to be interrupted but continued in that smooth voice of his. "That you are a possibly valuable source for the current activities of the Death Eaters and their Lord."  
  
"Oh I see." Draco said and pushed the sandwich away. If that was why they had brought him here, to use him like this, he wasn't going to be a good prisoner of war. "You think that maybe mommy and daddy may have mentioned some sort of dirty little secret to me on accident in between, you know, sacrificing babies and kicking puppies down sewers with the rest of the Death Eater's right?"  
  
"In less sarcastic ways, yes." Snape replied. Lupin had sat at the table on the other side of the Potion's Master, both professors flanking the sour Malfoy heir. Remus pushed the plate back towards Draco with worn hands.  
  
"Well you're wasting your time. They didn't tell me anything." He pushed the plate away from him again. "Not hungry."  
  
Lupin sighed and after a moment of watching him (Draco felt his eyes and was determined not to squirm!), Lupin picked up the plate and juice and brought it back towards the counter. "I'll put it away for you later, if you feel so inclined."  
  
"Not likely!"  
  
Snape realized that Draco had hit his whiney I'm-not-going-to-do-anything-you-tell-me-to-just-because-you-told-me-to phase and knew that there wasn't anything more that could be said at that moment that would get through to him, one way or the other. He got to his feet, brushing off the front of his robes lightly with his spindly fingers. "I will be on my way then. Lupin, I leave this in your charge."  
  
"Of course, Severus." Remus smiled still, putting his hands on the back of Draco's chair to keep the boy locked into place beneath the table as he tried to get up.  
  
"What? You can't leave me here! Professor! Not in this rotten house with this wretched flea-bitten–"  
  
Lupin, still smiling and waving to Snape's back, interrupted cooly. "Now you sound like Mrs. Black, Draco." 


	2. Chapter Two: Grimmauld Place

**Authors Note: There will be HP/DM I swear! Maybe even a bit of DM/HG steam.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
Over the next few weeks, Draco learned a great deal about the poor excuse for a house he would be holed up in the for the rest of the summer. For instance, he learned that it was called 12 Grimmauld Place. He decided that the name fit it perfectly because after all, it was a very grim very old place.  
  
He'd also learned that the house was used as the head quarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Although no one ever told him directly, he wasn't stupid and managed to figure it out on his own by watching the comings and goings of the place's rather unusual guests. Aurors, Ministry officials, Snape and the Weasley parents, even Dumbledore stopped by every now and then.  
  
Grimmauld's many guests paid little attention to him, although that was probably because he did his best to not be around whenever they were. Dumbledore was the only exception. Dumbledore always managed to find him, even when he didn't want to be found, although he never seemed to want anything except to see how he was doing.   
  
His room was against the house's chimney, or at least where a chimney at one time had been because in one corner, a large, irregular shape of wall jutted out making for a very annoying angle at first sight but later, as he learned, a very nice, private nook where he could put his bed. He could sleep that way without feeling that the room's eyes were watching him when he was trying to relax.  
  
Draco didn't unpack, leaving his trunk against the wall with the lid propped up so he could access his things easier. As soon as he'd been given a place to put his things, he'd immediately dug out his wand and now, even though he was restricted from using it, he kept it with him at all times.  
  
In his opinion, the most fascinating thing about number twelve was the odd, shrieking moth-eaten curtains. It was even more interesting than the collection of mounted house elf heads! Everyone seemed to be afraid of the curtains, at least to the point that they bent over backwards to avoid waking them up  
  
Draco was curious though, and not just because of that. What was more arousing, in his opinion, was the way the curtains screamed. Those kinds of screams, he knew, were never intended to come from human lips. Just what was behind those curtains? He had to see just what was so terrifying about it all.  
  
Stopping in front of his destination, the blonde squinted his eyes and looked over his shoulder and the banister that led to the ground floor. He didn't see anyone in the immediate vicinity so maybe, he thought, he could just get a peak in without raising too many eyebrows. Carefully he reached out, his fingers slipping through a few holes in the cloth before he peeled it back just an inch to peek through.   
  
Behind it, Draco was surprised to find an old woman sleeping against the wall. He was so shocked to find her there he almost closed the curtain up again until he realized it wasn't a real lady at all, just a portrait. The most life like portrait he'd ever seen. She looked very old with paper-thin yellow skin. She was wearing a black hat. She dozed now, leaning against her frame with a bit of drool dribbling from her liver colored lips onto her chin.   
  
"Disgusting." Draco's nose wrinkled at the sight of it. The most life like and most wretched painting in the history of all paintings! He pulled back the curtain a bit more to let in more light so he could get a better view when the woman in the portrait snorted awake, wiping her hands over her mouth.  
  
"What, no son ofâ€"" And then her eyes lit on him and Draco leaned back as she shrieked at him, so shrill and loud he felt as if his skin was going to crawl right off his body and run away. "You rotten, contemptuous waste of flesh, how dare you tread though the halls of my most noble fathers! How dare you corrupt this house with your filthy blood! By product of scum and sluâ€""  
  
"Excuse me," Draco exclaimed in that proud, holier-than-thou tone that only a Malfoy could muster. "I'll have you know my blood is entirely pure and from the looks of it there's nothing that would look good in these halls except an uncontrollable fire!"  
  
"What? What!" The woman in the portrait looked stunned as she opened and closed her mouth. "How dare you, besotted little beggar!"  
  
"A Malfoy always dares to do exactly what he wants, I'll have you know, and I'll have not another word from you unless you want me to take care of you for good." And to prove himself, he drew out his wand, waving it threateningly at her.  
  
"What! Well I never!" The portrait folded her arms over her chest and tilted her head, glaring down her nose at him with narrowed eyes. As she stared at him though, he saw recognition bloom slowly on her face and she leaned forward towards him. "Malfoy, you say. You're notâ€"boy, who is your sire?"  
  
"My father," He said steadily, continuing his regime of shrewd glares and disapproving frowns, "is Lucius Malfoy. My mother Narcissa."  
  
"Narcissa! Narcissa! What a darling woman. The perfect vision of a pureblood woman!" Draco rolled his eyes as the portrait ranted about his mother. "That would make me your grand mother!"  
  
"Not exactly." Draco blinked at her and resisted the urge to pull the curtains closed. She was boring, he decided, and he liked her better when she screamed. "More like an aunt...or...a cousin or something..." He tried to think about it, to follow back the lineage, but it hurt his head so he quit and snapped the curtains closed. "It doesn't matter, I won't admit to anyone that I'm related to the likes of you anyway!"  
  
"What?" The portrait shrieked in that painful tone she usually reserved for screaming. "You come back here young man! Don't walk away when I'm speaking to you! What would your father say you rude little boy!"  
  
Draco grunted as the sound of her voice followed him down the stairs. By the time he hit the ground floor he couldn't take it anymore and he covered his ears, bolting for the front door.  
  
At first, Draco was glad to see the front door, for whatever reason, opening by itself. That way he wouldn't have to uncover his ears for a second to escape the screams that drove him out.   
  
Any pleasure he derived from the opening door, however, died instantly once it was completely opened.  
  
The blonde lowered both his hands, one grabbing onto a post that marked the entrance hall from the ground floor to stop himself. He was staring back at possibly one of the most unwelcome people he could ever imagine.  
  
"What are you doing here, ferret-face?" Ron Weasley exclaimed and was promptly given a sharp pinch and an even sharper glare by the plain, brown haired girl behind him.   
  
Not Granger too!  
  
Draco opened his mouth to answer but before he could, the portrait began to scream again. "Oh dear." Arthur and Molly Weasley and Remus Lupin pushed past the trio of children and into the house, wands drawn. The other portraits had begun to scream again also.  
  
"Ron you woke them up!" Hermione sounded, in Draco's opinion, as shrill as the screaming paintings.  
  
"What? I did not!" He replied, turning to give her an incredulous look. "The old bat was wailing before we even got here, you could hear her all the way outside!"  
  
"Oh, right, Ron. I didn't hear anything and neither did anyone else. No one noticed, not even Lupin. You think if anything Lupin would notice something like that before you could!"  
  
"Cor, Hermioneâ€"" Ron's ears began to burn.  
  
Draco, however, was in no mood to listen to anyone bicker, especially two of the three most annoying Gryffindors in all the years of Hogwarts. While they were busy with each other he discreetly turned around and started back into the house and the stairs.  
  
"Hey! Malfoy! Where do you think you're goingâ€""  
  
Naturally, he didn't stop as Ron tried so eloquently to persuade him. Draco wove around the two wizards, stunning portrait after portrait with expert speed and ease, and disappeared into his room. He knew, beyond all reasonable doubt, that his two schoolmates (even though he didn't like admitting they were his anything, even in private) would not spend any time looking for him.  
  
Flopping down onto his bed, Draco curled his arms up, tucking his fingers behind his head and lacing them together. Just when he thought he had everything figured out, everything had to change. He rolled onto his side, glaring at the wall his bed was set against. Up until ten minutes ago he was sure that there was no way his summer could be going any worse. He was sure there wasn't anything more terrible than being separated from his family and his cushy existence and forced instead to exist in a run down, about to fall over, rotted through house.  
  
And then Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had to show up.  
  
Of course this meant, he was sure, that sooner or later 12 Grimmauld Place would be graced by the benevolent presence of the Golden Boy himself, Harry "save the world" Potter.  
  
Draco narrowed his gray eyes on the thick specks of dust that drifted lazily up and down in front of him through a beam of sunlight thrown crookedly across his bed from an adjacent window. The three of them, especially Harry Potter, had always been a problem for him.  
  
****  
  
"And what's worse, Father, is that even though he's a first year he gets to be on the Quidditch team! Just because the professors favor him, everyone favors him! The school even bought him a broom! A Nimbus Two Thousand! It's not fair!" Draco stomped his foot, positively fuming as he ranted. Behind his desk, Lucius had folded his hands and listened to everything with a rather impatient look on his face.  
  
"Dracoâ€""  
  
"They keep rewarding him! They reward him for breaking the rules! They gave him like, a million house points at the end of the year just because he ran off andâ€""  
  
"Draco!" There was no mistaking the sharp crack in Lucius voice this time and even in mid sentence Draco snapped his mouth closed with a little jump and straightened his posture, shoulders stiffening.  
  
"I can't listen to this rabble another moment, it's disgusting!"  
  
Lowering his head, Draco sighed out awkwardly. He knew he should have calmed down before he came to complain to his father. He should have at least waited until tomorrow, let himself settle for at least a day before coming off the Express. "I'm sorry, father." He replied. Now he'd have to sit through an entire lecture he already knew all the words to.  
  
"I've said this more times than I'd like to have," the lecture began. In truth, Lucius didn't like to have to say things twice but this particular speech Draco had heard at least five times before. "But apparently you don't seem to understand this yet. You are a Malfoy, Draco. Do you know what that means?"  
  
"Yes, father, it meaâ€"" Draco tried to answer but Lucius wouldn't allow it  
  
"No. You don't know what it means." He held up a finger in front of his son's face and Draco instantly swallowed his voice. "If you did, I wouldn't have to keep telling you this over and over and over. You are a Malfoy, Draco, and that means there is a certain standard of decorum you must conduct yourself with at all times. There isn't anyone in that school that isn't watching you. This boy, this group of children are baiting you and you're falling into their traps. They want to embarrass and enrage you but you need to be more careful. You have to show them you're smarter and better than they are. If other children witness them pushing you around, it will be difficult for you to maintain their respect."  
  
"Yes, father." Draco nodded, bowing his head slightly. He knew there was more.  
  
"These boys and girls you're going to school with now are your peers, they're going to be your co workers and connections in the future, even the less than savory types. If you are lessened in their eyes by Potter and his group now, they will always remember it and you will suffer from it the rest of your life."  
  
"Yes father." Draco nodded again, looking up into his Lucius' eyes as the speech drew to a close. It was shorter than usual but still no new information. "I'm trying to do and be like that, father, but it's difficult. Everything he does is perfect! If I were to do as he does I would be punished but they praise him for it! Like idiots they fall all over themselves to worship him!"  
  
"They are idiots, Draco." Lucius rose from behind his desk and took his son by the shoulder, squeezing it lightly before guiding him towards a large window. "They're blind fools, scrambling and crawling in the darkness, searching for someone to lead them."  
  
Draco glanced up at the taller blonde, his brows lifting. This wasn't the beginnings of anything he'd heard his father say before. It had taken eleven years but finally, he got the feeling that he was saying something important to him, something that a man would say to another man and not at all like a father to his son. "Who will?" he asked finally when Lucius didn't continue.  
  
"We will, of course. To an extent. We are powerful and famous. We make a good figure for the public eye, Draco, that's something you have to remember."  
  
"What...should I remember?"  
  
"The importance of appearing to be good. Always give them something to look up to but at the same time, while you survey the sea of heads bowed to you, keep your eyes open for the tallest head. Not only are they not showing you proper respect, but they'll prove to be a better stepping stone than the others. While they lift you upward you can, at the same time, push their faces into the dirt."  
  
"O-Okay." Draco wasn't exactly sure what that meant but he agreed anyway, mulling over his father's words in his head.   
  
Lucius was quiet by his side for a moment before patting his son's shoulder and moving away from him. "Next year you'll get them, Dragon. Next year, you'll be on the Quidditch team. I'm your father and you're still very young. It is my duty to cement your place in the future. Next year, all of this will be done."  
  
Draco remained by the window as his father returned to his desk and to his work. He folded his hands behind his back, looking out over the back lawn of Malfoy Manor and his mother as she sipped tea on the veranda with Mrs. Parkinson. He wished, that even with all of its problems, that every day could be like this one.   
  
****  
  
"Hey Ferâ€"er, Malfoy!"  
  
Draco groaned into his arm at the loud, irregular knock on his bedroom door. Weasley wasn't a very good shock back into reality.  
  
"Dinner's ready!" Persisted the voice on the other side of the door.  
  
When Draco didn't answer right away, Ron continued banging. "Hey! Malfoy! Do you hear me in there? Really I wouldn't mind if you weren't...or if you were like, dead or something, but I'm sure the rest of us would appreciate the opportunity to haul you out before you really began to stink! Ow! Hermione!"  
  
"You're such a prat!" Hermione hissed next. "I hope you never have to call me to dinner, by now you'd be digging Hogwarts: A History out of your face!"  
  
"But I wouldn't call you like this, Hermioneâ€"I'm fully aware that you have many a heavy book in your arsenalâ€""  
  
Before he could continue anymore Draco gave his bedroom door a swift kick. He could hear Weasley gasp and Hermione shriek at the sudden noise and movement. He hoped they had had their ears pressed against the door, and that it had really hurt when he'd kicked it. "Sod off. I have better things to do than listen to your flirt." He snarled through the wood.  
  
"Oh!" Hermione sounded outraged and the next moment his door rattled again as she kicked it. "Who cares if you starve anyway, Malfoy!"   
  
He heard her stomping down the stairs, followed by Weasley sounding like an elephant as he tromped after her. "Bravo, Hermione. Bravo!" He was clapping.  
  
When Draco finally went downstairs he was greeted by five sets of eyes. The entire table stopped to look up at him. Lupin smiled, Mr and Mrs. Weasley the same although theirs was one of sympathy and pity. Ron was scowling at him and Hermione was trying not to watch although he could see her, every now and then, glance at him from the corners of his eyes.  
  
He was sure he frowned at them, at the very least, and claimed the empty seat next to Mrs. Weasley. If there had been any conversation among the group before he came there wasn't any now, after he'd arrived. As he helped himself to what was set out (although he was determined to eat as little as possible), Mrs. Weasley lifted pitcher of juice to fill his cup. "There you go, dear."  
  
"Mom!" Ron instantly complained. "You don't have to serve him, he can take care of himself."  
  
"Ronald Weasley," Molly began and gave the boy a shrewd glance. "You can at least try to be civil for once in your life. Your hair's a mess and you look like you dragged your clothes out of the hamper! You should take a lesson fromâ€""  
  
"Please," Draco interjected, stressing the word with a growl. "Shut up!" He was proud of himself for managing the tone he did, so much like Lucius whenever his father caught him doing something he wasn't supposed to do. "Your family is already a disgrace to all wizarding kind, there's hardly any room to lecture an already lost cause!"  
  
"Why, you!" Mrs. Weasley stared at Draco in slack-jawed surprise. He could see the gears in her head turning. He had insulted her! Her family! And she had been defending him at the time! "I see your father certainly never taught you any manners!"  
  
Draco smirked, tilting his chin proudly. So she was finally starting to realize he wasn't someone's lost lamb, was she? "What's the point in saying please and thank you to a dog? You just throw it scraps from the table and let itâ€""  
  
Ron couldn't seem to take it anymore. "Why you!" He snarled and launched himself over the table, putting his knee right in the pudding as he grabbed for Draco's throat.   
  
"Ron!" Hermione shrieked.  
  
Although, it wasn't as if Draco wasn't expecting to be attacked. It was why he was able to slide back effortlessly from the table and get to his feet just out of reach and just in time. He watched with a smug smirk as Hermione laced her arms around Ron's waist, tugging him back into his seat. Mr. Weasley had his hand on his wife's shoulder and although he didn't look very calm himself, his wife was obviously repressing the urge to give him a talking to like he'd never had before.  
  
He didn't give either of them a chance as he left the dinner table. It wasn't like he'd be able to enjoy a meal in their presence anyway, he told himself as he went back upstairs. They'd interfere with his digestion.  
  
****  
  
That evening, however, Draco was so hungry he didn't think even swallowing rocks would interfere with his digestion. His stomach growled and gurgled and he kept rolling from one side to the other in his bed to keep it from making noise.  
  
Feeling another series of hunger pangs rise up in his stomach, Draco pressed his fingers against his abdomen to try and push it away. He wouldn't give in. He wouldn't go downstairs and find someone to make him something to eat. He didn't need them!  
  
Around his fingers, his stomach moaned anyway and with a groan towards the ceiling, Draco pulled a pillow over his head, holding it over his face with his fingers. He couldn't go down there, he just couldn't. The last thing he needed to do was get used to having them around. To be comfortable in the presence of a Weasley was something he hoped he never felt!  
  
Maybe, his mind began to wander, he could go down and find something to eat without having to ask anyone for help. He could make it himself! He could do that couldn't he? Maybe just throw some cheese between two slices of bread, or grab an apple! Ooh, an apple. Nothing ever seemed so tantalizing in his entire life than an apple did at that very second.  
  
Pushing the pillow off of his face he turned his head to glance at the far wall where a clock was set against it. Ten minutes to midnight. If it was that late already, chances are no one would be awake anyway! He wouldn't have anything to worry about.  
  
Smug with his own intentions, Draco got to his feet, smoothing out his hair with his fingers. That's right. Maybe he'd never have to ever eat anything in front of them again and in return, they'd all worry and wonder over how he managed to persist with being so stubborn, even against dinner.  
  
Smirking, he pulled open his bedroom door, the hinges smooth and quiet. Peering down the hall, he didn't see any light, not even coming from the cracks beneath the doors. He walked briskly but stealthily down the hallway and the stairs, his feet quiet in his slippers.  
  
He was just opening up the cupboards in the kitchen when he heard a set of voices coming towards him. Though still distant, he could still pick them out, sound carried well in the house's large, round hallways.  
  
"He's scum, I don't care what anyone says. As far as I'm concerned they could send him to Azkaban with the rest of his rotten family, do all of us a lot of good not having to deal with him in school." There was no mistaking the oh so dulcet tones of Ronald Weasley. "I don't know why my mum's so insistent on us being nice the weasel-faced prat, anyway!"  
  
Draco rolled his eyes, closing the cabinet slowly and settling for a large green apple he found sitting in a bowl on the counter. Leaning against the counter and buffing the apple on his chest he waited for the two to round the corner and spot him. Nothing would be funnier than the looks on their faces when they did.  
  
"Because, Ron, it isn't as simple as that." Hermione, the voice of reason. If only she knew the answer to why she was so ugly, Draco thought. "Your mum's worried, is all. She thinks he's a victim, raised into all of those beliefs by his father, even if he is, even if he isn'tâ€"he's still lost both of his parents. He's like an orphan now, kind of likeâ€""  
  
"Don't you dare compare Draco Malfoy to Harry, Hermione, I'll throw up on your shoes."  
  
"Oh grow up." She sounded disdainful. Draco could see the reflection of a light from what he assumed was a candle, bobbing along the wall, defiantly weaving towards the kitchen. "She's right, I think, at least when she says we should at least try to be decent with him. At least not pick fights."  
  
"I didn't pick a fight with him, he started it! You heard what he called my familyâ€"he said we were like dogs!"  
  
"I know, Ron, I was there. But it's not like we didn't know he wouldn't be a total prat. We can't expect him to make the first move, we are enemies to him. Harry was partially responsible for putting his parents in Azkaban, ruining his life, you know."  
  
"Hermione you sound like your on his side! Like you want to be friends with him!"  
  
You wish, Granger.  
  
"Oh please!" Hermione finally gave in just as the pair of them rounded the corner and into the kitchen. "I'd rather make friends with a Blast-Ended Skrewt!"   
  
They both laughed out loud until they stepped into the kitchen and noticed he was there. "Malfoy! What are you doing here?" Ron asked, already instantly angry. Hermione had put a hand to her mouth.  
  
"Bow wow, Weasley." Draco smirked and took a bite out of the apple he held before lobbing it at them. The two shifted in opposite directions and the fruit sailed between them and into the hall, running into the wall with a dull thunk and rolling along the floor. "Fetch! Go on, fetch boy!"  
  
Even in the half darkness, Draco could see Ron's face burst red with flame, his hands forming fists at his sides. "Shut up, Malfoy." He moved threateningly closer. "We'll see how far you can throw food at us when all of your fingers are broken!"  
  
With a cool arch of his brow, Draco turned away form him slightly, folding his arms over his chest. "Temper temper, Weasley. Let's try and be decent with me, shall we?"  
  
Hermione blushed.  
  
"Trust me," Ron snarled. "I'm already being more than decent with you already!"  
  
"I'm sure you're doing the best that your simple little mind can muster." Draco said cheerily and turned away from them to open another cupboard. He lost his apple, he needed something to snack on.  
  
"You're really slime, Malfoy, you know that?" Hermione asked but Draco didn't even give her a glance over his shoulder.  
  
"Now now, Granger. Let's all of us just be friends, okay?" He closed the cupboard again and turned around with full intention to cast another scathing insult at them. However, all he met was Ron Weasley's fist, right in the jaw.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione was pulling him back again, pushing herself between the two boys as Draco pushed off the counter top. "Malfoy! Boys! Stop it!" Although the poor girl was slowly getting crushed between the two boys and their flaring tempers. "I said STOP IT!" She finally hollered.  
  
It wasn't Hermione's yelling that stopped the bickering, though, as the screams of a far more tortured variety began, followed by the keening wails of many of its fellows.  
  
"Oops." Hermione said sheepishly, lowering her hands from the boys' chest as their attack on each other ceased in favor of holding their hands over their ears. "Sorry!"  
  
"Brilliant, Granger!" Draco drawled. "Although I don't think you managed to wake up all the portraits yet, maybe you should squawk a bit more!"  
  
At the rude, if not down right terrifying awakening, up the stairs, commotion exploded. Lights were shot on, someone fell out of bed and soon three sets of feet were jogging down the hallway, wands drawn. "Just what are you children up to!" Mrs. Weasley shouted above the din.  
  
Both Ron and Draco sent Hermione withering glances, but the biggest brain in Gryffindor just smiled back. 


	3. Chapter Three: Azkaban Fortress

Chapter Three  
  
Almost every day since he was told his father and mother would be placed in Azkaban for their activities with the Dark Lord, Draco had sent them letters. It was an important part of his day, usually right before breakfast, when he sat down with parchment and quill and wrote at least one page.  
  
He was doing so now in a sunny sitting room of the house, curled up in a relaxed way around an arm of a sofa as wide as his whole body. His parchment perched on the soft, cushy leather he tickled the feathers of his quill over his lips as contemplated what he'd wrote.   
  
He wasn't even sure if his parents were getting his mail. Before, if the Dementors had still been in power, he would have been positive that nothing would ever get through to his parents there. But after their uprising earlier this year, after they'd freed all of those loyal Death Eaters, the Ministry had taken over again. He wasn't sure if there were any Dementors left in the fortress anymore, but he sincerely hoped, for the sake of his mother and father, that there weren't.  
  
Moving the quill away from his lips he dotted a period and then sighed, curling his bare feet against the edge of the sofa. This got more and more difficult every time he wrote. By now, he was wondering if his parents could even read letters anymore. Maybe there wasn't anything left in Azkaban of his parents at all.  
  
He was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. He didn't need to glance away from his letter as he began to write again to know who it was. "What is it, Granger?"  
  
"Professor Snape is here to see you." She didn't sound as annoyed with having to play the part of a messenger as Draco imagined he would have been if he had been given the same task.  
  
"I see." He casually lifted a hand to wave her away as if she were one of his house elves. Although maybe, he wondered, she'd like that sort of thing. She was so obsessed with the shriveled little buggers, wasn't she?  
  
"Uhm, Malfoy?" He lifted his eyes to her finally as she moved closer, even if it was just a step. "What are you doing?"  
  
"I'm writing a letter, Granger." He rolled his eyes and glanced back down to his paper. At this time of day and with this task, he couldn't dredge up the necessary scathing wit to deal with her. He was much more occupied by other thoughts, ones that were, for once, important.  
  
"Well I think that's rather obvious." He could see Hermione from the corner of his eye as she lifted her arms to put them on her hips, thought better of the aggressive pose, and lowered them to her sides again. "Who are you writing to?"  
  
Draco managed an annoyed sigh and looked up at her. "What–" His voice trailed off as he noticed her then. She seemed dressed up for something. She wore a black skirt that went down to her knees and a maroon sweater. She'd pulled her wavy hair back out of her face and he fancied he saw a bit of color that wasn't normally there on her lips. "Who do you think I'd be writing to, Granger? Really, I thought you were supposed to be the smart little pig."  
  
"So," She began and finally gave in, putting her hands on her hips. Draco smirked lazily, uncurling one leg from beneath him and lowering it to rest flat on the floor. "You're writing to your parents then?" Hermione finally finished.  
  
"Mm." He nodded once.  
  
"Well." It seemed to strike something in the girl upon learning this little bit of information. Draco saw her eyes soften just slightly as she lowered her hands, turning around to leave the room. "He's waiting for you in the kitchen." And she left.  
  
Draco didn't watch her go, glancing back to his letter. "I'll finish you later I suppose, mum." He let the parchment roll up and stood. Setting his ink and quill on a nearby table, he took his letter with him as he left the sitting room and went into the kitchen.  
  
He could hear Lupin and Mr. Weasley already discussing something between themselves from the same room. "We can send out a small escort like last year to collect him. Even if You-Know-Who is plotting something, another inside source like Severus suggests, we have to remember that Harry is still just a boy who needs to attend school. He needs to graduate."  
  
"It's settled then. Two weeks before the children go back to school we'll have the Order fetch Harry and bring him here. We'll have one day in Diagon Alley to get all the children's things, we don't have to worry about him trying anything there."  
  
"And then to Hogwarts. A safer location couldn't be found."  
  
"I sincerely hope you didn't drag me all the way in here to talk about bloody Potter," Draco announced as he stepped into the kitchen.   
  
Professor Snape gave him a narrowed glare. "Please, Mr. Malfoy, if you would be so kind, I believe we would like nothing more than for you to spare us your childish rhetoric."  
  
Professor Snape had such a great sense of humor. Draco glanced at the two men, Mr. Weasley and Lupin, before he turned his attention fully to the greasy haired Potions Master. "You wanted to see me?"  
  
"I'm here to take you away instead," He replied, rising to his feet. He seemed to want to get going right away.  
  
"Take me away? Finally, it's about time. Where are we going?" He could pack his things in an instant! All he needed to do was close and lock his trunk lid and haul it downstairs. He'd even be sure to make lots of noise to wake up the portraits. He wanted to leave with a grand hurrah!  
  
Professor Snape, as he so loved to do, was quick to squash childish dreams. "To see your parents, naturally, just like you've been begging me since I brought you here."  
  
Draco couldn't hide his disappointment right away, a bit of it leaked out onto his face before he realized what Snape had said. "My parents? Really? So you actually did read my mail. And here, without receiving any reply, I thought I had to keep sending in case they kept getting misdirected."  
  
As usual, Snape didn't look overly amused. "Put on some shoes quickly, I would like to get this done with as soon as possible."  
  
****  
  
"Hey, guess what your mother just told me!" Hermione exclaimed as she rejoined Ron in the upstairs hall. Her house mate was currently standing on a stepping ladder, scrubbing the corner where the ceiling met the wall. This was their chore today, to clean all of the walls up here.  
  
Ron was glad to see her though, it meant they could take a break! Especially since she was holding a tray of cookies and two glasses of milk. "What? She decided she's going to let us do this by magic?"  
  
"What? No. It's better this way, really, Ron. By hand, we can make sure everything's done perfectly. Besides, we're not allowed to use magic during break, you know that." She set the tray on an open patch of hallway and sat next to it, situating her skirt into place at her knees.  
  
"I know, I know." Ron rolled his eyes before he joined her and promptly helped himself. The cookies were still warm, his favorite way to enjoy them. "What's up?"  
  
"It's Harry!" Hermione announced gleefully. "They're going to fetch him in a little while, next month I think! They're going to bring him here to stay for a few weeks before school starts."  
  
"In a month! Hermione." Ron looked suddenly desperate, and funny with chocolate smudged on the corner of his mouth. "Are you serious? That's like forever away! Why can't they get him here sooner? It'd be so much easier to deal with Malfoy if he were here now instead of a month from now!"  
  
"He's not that difficult to deal with, you know." Hermione took a bite of her cookie, being careful not to get any crumbs on her sweater. "If you stay out of his way, he'll stay out of yours, right? At least that's what it seems like. He hasn't been a pest since the fight in the kitchen, and that was five days ago."  
  
Ron didn't look impressed. "His very presence is something to deal with. I can't even believe he's here, couldn't the Ministry find some better place to stick that rat? How come we have to put up with him all the time?" When Hermione gave him one of her 'you are such a wimp' looks, he added, "and besides. You remember how it was last time when we waited so long to save Harry from that terrible family of his. He was so torked that we hadn't come sooner! He yelled at us for like half an hour!"  
  
"He sure was cranky, wasn't he?" Hermione knew she shouldn't laugh but she couldn't help it. It had been frightening at the time, sure, but now when she could clearly remember how red his face was gotten and how loud he had become, hollering and yelling. He must have been really hurt. "Poor Harry." Still giggling, she finished her cookie and took a drink of her milk. "He won't be like that this time, Ron, I've already sent him some letters. You have too, haven't you?"  
  
"Er...one, I think. I dunno, I don't really like writing letters all that much."  
  
"But you still wrote him one." She smiled at him reassuringly and setting her milk down, the glass half empty, she got to her feet. Picking up her work apron, she slid it over her neck and tied it around her waist. "He won't feel totally abandoned this time."  
  
Ron watched her as she climbed up the step stool and began to scrub at the walls again. "So you're saying you don't want Harry to come early?"  
  
"Of course not!" She used both of her hands as she rubbed the brush up and down, back and forth over the peeling wallpaper. "I'd love to have Harry here!"  
  
"Well then that settles it." Ron had one more cookie and drank all of his milk before he went to join her, climbing up his own ladder. "We'll just have to start pestering them. With your brains and my loud, obnoxious voice I'm sure we can combine our powers to get what we want."  
  
"Okay, okay." Hermione gave in quickly because really, she wouldn't mind having Harry here at Grimmauld Place as soon as possible. "Operation Potter starts tonight!"  
  
****  
  
The trip to Azkaban Fortress had been trickier than Draco had thought it would be. First involved was driving to a train station and then, a long train ride north. Another car trip was after that to the shore of England where a long strip of water stretched out before them. He could see Azkaban Fortress rising out from the ocean, a dark, gloomy island that made him shiver.  
  
"Professor," Draco asked while they boarded a ship that had been, apparently, waiting for them. A Ministry wizard, one Draco recognized as being from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement from the badge on his chest, was waiting in it for them when they arrived. "Are there any Dementors still in Azkaban?"  
  
"Not anymore," Snape replied, taking a seat on the boat. He looked funny, Draco decided, doing something like this. From the grim line of Snape's mouth, he gathered that his Potions Master didn't especially enjoy this form of transportation either. "After their betrayal they obviously can't be trusted. Especially not with our criminals."  
  
The Ministry wizard snorted as Snape said that, giving Draco a mean look and a frown. Draco supposed it was obvious just who he was. He grew into the face and form of his father more and more every year.  
  
"Then what does the Ministry do?" He asked although it was the stranger in the boat who answered.  
  
"We compensate, of course! Even before that back stabbing we've been working on a way to take care of the kind of rubbish we house at Azkaban by ourselves. By now we've developed our own set of restraining spells." The Ministry wizard relaxed a bit once they were finally settled and the boat was moving on its own towards the distant fortress. "The true pride and joy of 'em being a charm that mimics the effects a real Dementor has on a wizard's mind." He tapped his temple with a finger before a cruel smile broke out over his face. "We save that, of course, for only our most special guests."  
  
When they docked on the island, Draco was no longer sure he even wanted to be there in the first place. He was the last to get off the boat, stepping onto land with shaky legs. The wizard that had ridden with them to shore led the pair through a set of security gates that were opened one after the other by a guard posted in a watch tower above it. These had to be one of the new measures of security implemented that Draco remembered hearing about some time after his fifth year at Hogwarts had concluded.  
  
Before the Dementor uprising there hadn't been any sort of security like this, there was no point in gates and guards, or even walls and cells when all of the prisoners were trapped in their own, slowly maddening minds. But that had been before and now, certain precautions had to be taken so that the wizarding world could sleep better at night, or so Draco assumed.  
  
The closer they got to the actual doors the more Draco realized how massive Azkaban Fortress was. If he tried to look up to take all of it in at one time he became dizzy from the sheer height of it. There weren't very many windows either and those that were there were blocked off with grimy bars as thick as his arm.  
  
At the moment, the front doors were held open and Draco could see into the prison itself, stone floors and stone walls. There were a few wizards mulling about, mostly behind a large L-shaped desk that looked out of place, rather new, and trapped behind a mesh of black gates. They had to stop before venturing further. At the door a wizard took their wands and then separated them to search them magically one at a time.  
  
When they were allowed to enter, the gates were opened for them. At the front desk, their Ministry wizard was replaced by another, this one much more surly looking with a heavy face and a ring of keys. "Mr. Snape?" The wizard's eyes flickered from Severus down to Draco. The blonde felt the same shrewd glance from him that the other wizard had dolled out but this time he was ready and gave the man a sour glare of his own. "This way, then."   
  
The two of them weren't allowed very far into the prison, as if to keep them from learning any of its secrets and how it was now run. Although a little information trickled down through the media, since the betrayal of the Dementors, just how the jail worked and the changes that had taken place were kept secret.  
  
They were brought to a large room empty except for a table and two chairs and, stretching across the wall, a large, long mirror. "We've set it up so that they'll be able to communicate with you, although really I find it highly doubtful that they'll even notice. Just don't get your hopes up," Draco was warned. "Who do you want to see first? You have half an hour with both of them and after that you have to go."  
  
Draco knew the answer to that instantly as he stood in front of the mirror, his hands in tight, sweating fists at his sides. "I want to see my mum."  
  
When he had been arrested, Draco remembered that Lucius had tried to protect his wife. Initially, Narcissa had only been under suspicion while her husband was already convicted. The trouble had risen when the Ministry came to ransack Malfoy Manor. She had fought against them then, screamed and assaulted officers, hid important documents and artifacts. Before they had taken her away, Narcissa had told Draco she was going to make sure that the Ministry put her away in Azkaban as well. She told him she couldn't stand to be away from her husband. When he'd begged her not to, Narcissa insisted she wouldn't have been any help to him anyway.  
  
She had sounded irrational to him then but in the end there hadn't been anything that he could do to change her mind and, anyway, he couldn't bring himself to begrudge her her desires no matter how much he didn't understand them.   
  
"Alright, your mother it is then." And with a smirk that Draco didn't enjoy very much, the wizard turned towards the mirror and said, "Narcissa Malfoy." When he spoke her name, Draco watched as his reflection got all swirly and unfocused. All of his colors twisted together into a spiral like water going down into a drain. When everything suddenly snapped back into reality, it was as if he were peering into a window right into his mother's cell.  
  
Of course the moment he saw her he wished that he hadn't. Reflexively, he took a step back from the mirror. He wasn't even sure if the thing reflected back at him was his mother at all. She was definitely a woman, some gaunt woman, crouched against a wall with her arms stretched out between her knees and her blonde head bent, still as stone, but not proud Narcissa Malfoy!  
  
She was too thin, her limbs too thin and brittle looking, like sticks. Her white skin, from what bits of it showed from the short-sleeve and pants prisoner uniform she wore, were bruised and dirty, slashed with long, thin cuts now scabbed over and surrounded by angry patches of red irritation. Her hair was short too, a bristle of platinum blonde that had been shaved nearly completely off and was just regrowing.   
  
"M-Mother," Draco began in a tentative voice, realization and shock finally settling into his face when the woman lifted her head to look at him with hazy eyes through the mirror. That was his mother's face, as much as he would have liked to believe some sort of mistake or prank had been pulled instead. "Mum!"  
  
Before he could keep his composure and realize what he was doing, Draco had pressed his hands against the glass, his fingers resting against the smooth surface. He watched as her out of focus gaze pin pointed him. He watched as recollection filtered over her face and twisted her mouth. "My son," she said in a wavering voice that sounded like crushed autumn leaves. "There you are, mommy's precious baby boy." She lurched forward and Draco watched as she began to crawl to him on his hands and knees. He saw her sleep bruised eyes, her chewed on lips, and the scratches down the sides of her face.   
  
She had been so beautiful before.  
  
"You've finally come to me," She continued in her crooning voice. "I knew you would come eventually and I'm glad you did. You've finally come to me so I can end this once and for all." Her mouth twisted upwards into a curly, crooked smile and she rose to her feet, hunched over slightly, her arms hanging limply. "Finally here..." She rocked slightly back and forth.  
  
"W-what?" Draco felt his heart clench in his chest as his nails scraped over the mirror. "M-mother...I'm...I'm sorry–I–I really mi-"  
  
He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as Narcissa spoke over him. "Finally here," she repeated her voice raising. "Finally here so I can kill you!" She launched herself at the mirror, hands outstretched to grab his neck and strangle him. "Finally I can kill you!"  
  
Draco scrambled back, tripping over his own feet and onto the floor as his mother collided with the mirror. A wide crack snaked up and down along the mirror's surface (not on his side, but surely on hers) originating from a smear of blood left by her hands as they smashed into the glass. Two wizards were instantly on her, lacing their arms around her arms and around her waist, pulling her back.  
  
Narcissa fought them, kicking and swinging her bloody hands, screaming in a way Draco thought only the portrait and Grimmauld Place could scream. The two wizards wrestled her to the ground on her face as she screamed, blood and drool dribbling from her mouth. One sat on her legs and held her hands behind her back while the other drew out his wand. "Stupefy!"  
  
But before he could see anymore, the mirror went black. Draco stared as his own reflection slowly came back into view. He sat on the ground, his eyes wide in fear and all over he was shaking, trembling, and even as he sat up and wrapped his arms around himself, he couldn't make it stop.  
  
"Do-"   
  
Someone began but Draco wasn't sure who it was as he hollered above them. "No! I don't want to see anymore!" He pushed himself to his feet, not having realization enough to be surprised as Snape helped him. "I don't want to see anything else like this anymore!"  
  
****  
  
Hermione Granger was sitting on her back, stretched out on a blanket she and Ron had unrolled on the lawn of 12 Grimmauld place earlier that afternoon. They'd had a difficult morning of washing every wall on the upstairs floor, cleaning off cobwebs and years of dirt and dust but it had finally gotten done. Beside her, Ron was also stretched out, resting on his side with an arm curled under his head. She wasn't sure but she thought he was asleep.  
  
She couldn't bring herself to take a nap herself, though. Instead, as she stared at the clouds and the limitless blue sky, she thought about Malfoy. She didn't know why he was so persistent in her mind lately, ever since she read the article in the Prophet about how his mother had been arrested. Even though she knew the fate that awaited Lucius Malfoy, to hear it would fall on Malfoy's mother as well was a morbid curiosity to her. She'd followed the Malfoy story since then.   
  
Trials, imprisonment, lists and details of their crimes, their lives, the confiscation of their house, the auction of all of their belongings. She'd learned more about the Malfoys in the span of a few weeks than she thought she'd ever know about them. The Ministry was dealing with them quickly, as if it were eager to have them under its belt, an example of what would happen to show off and frighten others who thought about doing much the same as the Malfoys had done.  
  
And then early that morning before she found out she'd be scrubbing walls, she had taken the time to dress up nicely, just to show Malfoy. Although the effort had been proven to be a waste, she had decided it was an effort she had better expend every day. If for any reason, to prove that mudbloods had the ability to look as nice as the purebloods could, even when simply relaxing around the house.  
  
"Hermione," Ron said suddenly, his voice muffled by his arms. "What are you thinking about? Usually you talk and talk and we can't even get you to shut up."  
  
"Oh, thanks, Ron." She gave him a shove and when he rolled around to face her, she scowled at him. "You know, I'm really glad to have friends like you. It really helps me to stay good and confused when it comes to defining an enemy!"  
  
Ron smiled at her, propping himself up on an elbow. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Forget it! I was just thinking about Malfoy," She admitted and ignored the way Ron's face fell. "He was writing a letter to his parents this morning, Ron," She continued, to explain herself. "It was possibly one of the saddest things I've ever seen in my life."  
  
"What?" Ron gave her a flat look and then made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and flopped onto his back. "What's that supposed to mean? The saddest thing you ever saw? Please! Hermione, you shouldn't feel sorry for him. He's getting everything he deserves!"  
  
"That's not true," She cried out, sitting up straight. "Ron, how can you say that? Sure he's been a real prat all this time but his entire family has been torn apart. He's all alone now without anyone to look after him!"  
  
"He's sixteen years old." Ron droned, putting his hands over his eyes and rubbing the sleep from them. He couldn't believe he was hearing this! "He can take care of himself."  
  
"Oh, can he!" Hermione rounded on him as the red head sat up. "You're sixteen too, Ron, do you think you could take care of yourself? You can't even match your shirt to your trousers without help, you know! I'm sixteen too. I couldn't take care of myself–I'd be afraid to be alone, especially at a time like this."  
  
"Oh, please." Ron sighed again, rising onto his knees. "Hermione, he doesn't have anything to worry about, he's not alone, if he's sad and needs a friend–boo hoo, the poor sod–I'm sure he can find some Death Eater to give him a hug and a lollipop! Slime like that always takes care of their own and Malfoy, to them, is a promising baby slime."  
  
"If that were true why is he even here, then? If the other Death Eaters kept such a close watch on him why didn't Mrs. Malfoy or Mr. Malfoy send Draco away to be with one of them if they knew this kind of trouble was going to happen to their family? They had to know it was going to happen too, especially after Mr. Malfoy was caught at the Department of Mysteries."  
  
"I don't know, Hermione, maybe it's because they're all idiots like Crabbe and Goyle, how am I supposed to know!" He put a hand on her shoulder and smiled lightly at her again. "You're just getting worked up. I know you feel like you have to protect everyone in the world who can't protect themselves but Draco Malfoy isn't a house elf."  
  
Hermione watched him for a moment, brown eyes earnest and worried before she gave in. It wasn't something worth arguing about. "I guess maybe you're right about that, at least."  
  
"Straight!" he replied. "Although, he'd probably look pretty funny running around in nothing but a pillow case and slamming his fingers in doors, huh?"  
  
Even though she was doing her best to be serious, Hermione couldn't keep herself from laughing at the picture that formed in her mind. "It would be hilarious," she agreed, but before she could give Malfoy in a pillow case any serious thought, Ron leaned forward suddenly and kissed her. 


	4. Chapter Four: Harry Potter

*Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews. Eight! Woo hoo! Anyway, we're one step closer to some HP/DM.  With a little RW/HG beneath our belts and some RW/HP in this chapter we're well on our way!  
  
   
  
Chapter Four  
  
   
  
"Mummy," Draco said, cracking the silence of early morning with his voice, still thick and crumbly with sleep. "Where's daddy?"  He looked up from his bowl of hot cereal to his mother sipping tea idly beside him.    
  
   
  
"Your father went to work, baby boy, just like he always does."  Narcissa gave her son a warm smile and set her tea cup down, stirring in a lump of sugar with her spoon.  
  
   
  
He watched her for a moment as he stirred, a finger hooked just inside his lower lip, before reaching towards her little bowl of sugar cubes.  His fingers paused before touching one until Narcissa gave him a gentle tip of her head. Only then was it safe to help himself.  He dropped his selected cube into his porridge and forced it to the bottom with his spoon before he began stirring, just like her.  
  
   
  
"Mummy," He said again, as stirring sugar soon became tiresome.  "How come, whenever I wake up early, it's never early enough to see daddy before he goes to work?"  
  
   
  
Narcissa still smiled, reaching a hand out to smooth down some fly away hair on Draco's little head.  He always looked so adorable like this, bare foot and swinging his legs, dressed in his father's shirt.  "Because your father goes to work very early, when it's still dark outside.  You needn't worry, baby boy, every day before he leaves, father peeks into your room and gives you a goodbye kiss."  
  
   
  
"Oh."  Draco looked back into his cereal again and began to eat.  He'd ventured only a handful of bites before looking at his mother who had since moved on from tea to the Daily Prophet.  "Mummy?"  
  
   
  
When Narcissa turned the page and didn't answer him right away, Draco repeated himself sounding slightly alarmed. "Mummy!"  
  
   
  
The elegant woman lowered the paper and finally gave him her attention. "Yes, baby boy?"  
  
   
  
"Why?"  
  
   
  
"Why what, Draco?"  
  
   
  
"Why does Daddy have to get up so early to go to work?"  
  
   
  
Narcissa was silent for a moment as she watched her son watch her, his large gray eyes and his small fists made of even smaller fingers clench on either side of his bowl.  Every moment with Draco was more adorable than the one before it.  "How old are you, baby boy?"  
  
   
  
"I'm five!" He said instantly and proudly. It had taken an eternity to reach five years old.  
  
   
  
"Well that's very old.  I should start calling you big boy now instead of baby, what do you think?"  
  
   
  
"I don't mind, mummy," her son replied and when Narcissa scooted back from the table he slid off of his chair and over to her, lifting his arms.  
  
   
  
Narcissa scooped him up and set him into her lap. She smoothed out his hair again, brushing it from his face with her gentle fingers and then leaned over to kiss the tip of his nose.  He giggled.  "You'll always be my baby boy, Draco."  
  
   
  
"But mummy," Draco rested against her soft body, looking up into his mother's face from below, his fingers curled against her morning robes. "What about daddy?"  
  
   
  
"What about daddy!"  Narcissa repeated, lowering a hand on Draco's stomach and rubbing over his belly. "Okay, baby boy, you're old enough now.  I think it's about time I told you."  
  
   
  
Sensing a big secret, Draco sat up slightly, looking at her earnestly. "About daddy?" he asked.  
  
   
  
"Mm hm," She nodded.  "You see, Draco, if daddy didn't wake up so early and leave the house, the sun would never rise."  
  
   
  
"It wouldn't?"  His eyes got so wide, Narcissa had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing and ruining the whole story.  
  
   
  
"No it wouldn't," she managed to sound serious and grave as she continued, "you see, every morning when the moon goes to sleep and the sun wakes up, it peeks out from behind the clouds and looks down onto the earth to find daddy.  If daddy isn't out there, the sun will be sad and say'there aren't any Malfoys out and about today. They must have all perished while I was sleeping! What a horrible world this is now without a single Malfoy in it.  There's no point in waking up now, I'll sleep forever' and it would never wake up. You wouldn't want to live in a world without the sun, would you?"  
  
   
  
Draco shook his head 'no'.  "Daddy," he said with a smile slowly growing over his face, "daddy is the most important man in the whole world isn't he?"  
  
   
  
Narcissa smiled after a moment and then reached over the table to slide his breakfast bowl towards them. "He is very important," she agreed.  "Now you need to hurry up and finish your porridge or we won't be able to go to the zoo today and watch the dragons."  
  
   
  
****  
  
   
  
Since returning from Azkaban Fortress, time, for Draco Malfoy, passed without any comprehension.  Days were swallowed by nights and nights melted into weeks.  He spent it in his room, or in the drawing room, sometimes sitting in the back yard, and even, late at night, chatting with Mrs. Black.  
  
   
  
It wasn't time spent in depression, but rather, in thought. His mother had been in Azkaban for little over a month when he finally saw her, and already she had decayed into that thing he had witnessed through the mirror.  Without the Dementors there how could this have happened?  How could it have happened if not by wizard hands?  
  
   
  
The thought of the guards at Azkaban touching and hurting his mother boiled quickly into rage in Draco's mind.  The wizard that had taken him and Professor Snape to the fortress had mentioned something about developing Dementor-like charms to use on their most special "guests".  Obviously, his mother had to be a product of that terrible hospitality.  
  
   
  
It was difficult for him to admit that his mother was no longer the same woman she had been when she greeted him coming off the Express barely a blink in time ago.  All of her sweetness and beauty had been worn away by the senseless, unforgiving shadows of Azkaban.  It wasn't something he would ever be able to forgive.  
  
   
  
His intentions would turn to all out war if his father turned out to be the same as his mother.  When he had visited the jail, and after he'd seen his mother, he had been afraid to see Lucius and find out for sure if he had become mad or not.   
  
   
  
Now, he wished that he had seen him, if for anything, to clear the doubt that filled his head.  His father, he tried to reassure himself, was a strong and powerful man. There wasn't any way a charm made by wizard hands could break him, especially those mediocre to poor hands he'd seen at Azkaban.  
  
     
  
Usually, this pattern of thought changed around dinner time.  When the evening rose and he was still all alone in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar house, he worried about his own future.  The apple never falls very far from the tree, the saying went, and Draco wondered if maybe this wasn't true.  Were the eyes of his mother his own eyes in twenty or twenty five years?  Maybe even five years, the future was so startlingly close.  
  
   
  
His trip to Azkaban finally forced Draco to worry about what he should have spent years before worrying about.  Voldemort.  Even though simply thinking the name made Draco wince, he forced himself to confront it now.  He laid on his back, askew in bed with his feet lifted up and crawling along the wall towards the ceiling.  He thought about his future with the Dark Lord.  
  
   
  
His family was bound to You-Know-Who in a way that couldn't be escaped, but at the same time Draco decided to make the conscious decision to not end up like his father and mother had.  He wouldn't blindly follow He Who Must Not Be Named like his father before him.  He wouldn't have the same future that his parents shared, rotting in jail at the mercy of sods not even worthy of cleaning his toilet.   
  
   
  
Stretching his arms out before him, fingers spread and lacing together, he let his legs slide down the wall and back to the mattress of his bed.  To show him just what he shouldn't do, what he shouldn't become, would be the last lesson his father and mother would ever teach him.  
  
   
  
****  
  
   
  
For Hermione and Ron, Operation Potter had started with a Bang! and hadn't lost steam since.  They had begun with casual hints, mentioning Harry's name when they cleaned, saying how much faster things would go if he were there.    
  
   
  
Then over dinner they would recall their funny Harry At Dinner anecdotes and whenever anyone said or did anything interesting or funny one of the two Gryffindors was sure to echo 'Harry would really like to hear that!' or "Oh, boy! If Harry had seen that...".    
  
   
  
The adults were starting to get the message.  Although their banter had been funny the first few times around now, whenever Harry's name was mentioned, it was followed by rolling eyes.  
  
   
  
It was the rolling eyes that made Ron and Hermione decide it was time to move on to the next phase of operations.  It was why they'd spent most of their morning after breakfast in the drawing room creating a Harry of their very own.    
  
   
  
Using Ron's school uniform they constructed a body around a broom spine, filling Ron's clothes with balled up shirts and socks to form a torso.  A pair of gardening gloves served as hands, Ron's stuffed shoes for feet, and somewhere in the house they'd found a pair of old glasses to slip through the stiff bristles of the broom to make up Harry's face.  By the time it was finished, although it wasn't as perfect as it could have been with the help of magic, the effigy was something to behold.  
  
   
  
It had easily been one of the most amusing experiences of their life, especially when Ron started talking to the broom as if it really were their friend, apologizing as he shoved his hands down Harry's clothes. Hermione laughed and laughed.  Both of them worked very hard to keep busy.  If their hands and minds were occupied, no discussion of the kiss would have to take place.  
  
   
  
"You know, Hermione," Ron said with a smile as he reclined on the Harry they'd completed.  "He's pretty comfy!  True there are a few lumps that need straightening out," he gave Harry's side a punch to illustrate, "but after that I think he'd make a pretty good pillow."  
  
   
  
"Oh, Ron! I'm telling Harry you said that!"  
  
   
  
"Don't you dare!"  Ron growled and got to his knees as both he and Hermione perched over Harry on the floor, each crouching on one stuffed side.  "Don't listen to her Harry! She's full of lies! Full of lies and deceit!"  
  
   
  
"I am not, Harry you know that!"  Hermione pushed Ron lightly aside before clasping her hands against her chest and looking down into Harry's spectacles earnestly. "Ron's just using you, Harry! All this time he's tricked us! He's been pretending to be our friend when all he really wants is to use you as a pillow!"  
  
   
  
"Lies! Lies! It's all lies!  Harry, don't fall prey to her feminine wiles!"    
  
   
  
Hermione shrieked in dismay as Ron said that. "How could you!  All of my secrets! All my secrets laid bare! You don't believe him, Harry, do you? Do you? I would never use me being a girl to get what I wanted from a man!"  
  
   
  
Still hovering over the broom, their banter stopped suddenly as both of them looked up and towards the door as movement caught their eye.  It was Draco staring at them with a disturbed look on his face.    
  
   
  
Draco looked at Hermione and Ron.  
  
   
  
Ron and Hermione looked back.  
  
   
  
Draco glanced towards Harry, lying pinned between the two.  
  
   
  
Harry, who had no real eyes behind those glasses, didn't look at anything.  
  
   
  
Without a word passed between them, the Slytherin turned around and went back down the hall and soon, was out of sight.  
  
   
  
Hermione and Ron burst out laughing.  
  
   
  
"Did you see?"  Ron wailed with laughter, holding his sides as he leaned against the leg of a sofa. "Did you see his face! I've never seen a face like that before, the was the best horrified slash disturbed slash shocked face I've ever seen in my entire life!"  
  
   
  
Hermione's face was red with giggling, her grin pressed behind her hands as she sat down on Harry's thigh.  "I saw it, I saw it!"   
  
   
  
As their laughter died down, Hermione bounced lightly on her seat and looked at Ron. "You know, I think your right, he is pretty comfy!"  
  
   
  
"I told you! I told you!"  He turned towards Harry, folding his arms over his chest. "You heard her. You're witness."  
  
   
  
"Oh, stop it."  Rolling her eyes, Hermione glanced again the doorway that Draco had appeared in and then disappeared from.  "Hey, Ron," she began.  
  
   
  
Ron, who followed her gaze and thoughts very well, groaned. "Not again, Hermione, please don't say something about Malfoy again."  
  
   
  
"What do you mean 'not again'?"  Hermione complained getting to her feet. "Have you seen him lately? Something happened to him! Wherever Snape took him it wasn't good. He hasn't said anything nasty to us in weeks!"  
  
   
  
"I can't believe you're actually complaining about that!  Hermione, he hasn't said much of anything in weeks."  Ron corrected.  
  
   
  
"Well see?  See what I mean? That isn't normal especially not for him.  I don't suppose you've realized that with his life changed like this, there just might be a chance for him to switch sides, also!"  
  
   
  
"So? So what?"  
  
   
  
"So! So that's one less Death Eater we'd have to worry about! And you know how annoyingly persistent Malfoy is. Wouldn't it be nice to not have to deal with that for once?"  Hermione had assumed her stubborn hand-on-hip pose, glaring down at Ron the way his mother glared at him.   
  
   
  
It made him cringe slightly as he took a seat on the couch, folding his arms over his chest. "Sure it would be nice to not have to deal with him, but I'd rather it be because he wasn't around at all!  If you ask me, the Ministry should have shipped him off to Antarctica or something!"  
  
   
  
"Ron," Hermione lowered her hands slowly and she softened her face. "I really think you're being too hard on him."  
  
   
  
"And I think you're being too soft to him!" Ron, who wasn't going to be swayed by Hermione's doe eyes, looked in another direction.  "I know. We'll let Harry decide what we do. He's the voice of reason."  
  
   
  
"The voice of reason? You didn't just say that did you?"  Hermione dead panned. "Isn't he the one who gave you the idea to fly your father's car to Hogwarts in second year?"  
  
   
  
"Actually," Ron rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "That was my idea."  
  
   
  
"I should have known."  Hermione said acidly. "But the point remains that he went along with it!  Harry's always running around getting into trouble without thinking things through first. Remember when you two followed those spiders into the Forbidden Forest?  Remember the time–"   
  
   
  
Ron interrupted her before she could continue, his heckles rising. "Forget about Harry, what about you, Hermione!"  He jabbed a finger at her.  
  
   
  
"Me? What about me!"  Her voice was rising too.    
  
   
  
"You're not that bloody brilliant either, you know! You get into just as much trouble as the rest of us. What makes it worse is with you,  you actually do think things through first and still end up over your head!"  
  
   
  
"I do not!  Like what?"  
  
   
  
"Well since you brought up second year, how about when you went and got yourself petrified!  You knew it was a Basilisk but you just had to see it for yourself didn't you?  So you went creeping around without us peeking around corners with mirrors! That's really using your head!"  
  
   
  
Hermione turned scarlet but before she had a chance to reply, someone else broke in from the doorway  "You two just really fall apart without me here to keep you cool, don't you?"  
  
   
  
"Harry!"  Ron and Hermione cried at the same time.  Maybe Operation Potter had worked more smoothly than they thought it would!   
  
   
  
Hermione was the first on him, wrapping her arms around the real Harry in a hug so tight it made him squeak. Ron grinned broadly and although he didn't hug Harry (that just wouldn't be manly), he clapped him roughly on the back. "It's about bloody time you got here, mate!"  
  
   
  
"Yeah," Harry replied, lowering his arms from Hermione as the girl stepped away.  He held onto her shoulder and took Ron's too, giving them a little shake before letting them go completely.  "I didn't think I was supposed to be picked up for a long time yet so imagine my surprise when your mum and dad showed up almost a month early, Ron!  Apparently," behind his glasses, Harry's green eyes drifted past them to the crude version of himself on the floor "some people just couldn't stand to live without me."  
  
   
  
Ron looked over his shoulder at the figure and laughed lightly, Hermione blushed. "Well, what can we say.  Operation Potter was a big success!"  
  
   
  
"Operation Potter?"  Harry gave them both a weird look, not that they needed to do any explaining.  They'd all managed to do some pretty strange things together over the years as it was.  
  
   
  
Hermione crouched by the broom Harry and lifted him up, holding him out towards the real thing with a smile. "Do you think we should set him up in the kitchen just to freak out Ron's mum when she goes in there to make dinner?"  
  
   
  
"Let's do it!"  Ron agreed eagerly without hesitation and the four of them snuck out of the drawing room to do just that and then wait for the results of their labor to unfold in Ron's room.  
  
   
  
It took longer than Ron would have liked it to to fill Harry in on everything that had happened since Harry had been cut off from the wizarding world a month and a half ago when school had let out.  It wasn't that there was so much news to report as much as it was Hermione wanting to talk about Malfoy.  In the end, nothing about the out of place border at 12 Grimmauld Place was decided.  
  
   
  
Harry wanted to talk a lot about Sirius.  Both Hermione and even Ron were keen enough to notice the sleepless bruises beneath Harry's eyes and the sad hint in all of his smiles.  He'd told them that he was finally having dreams that weren't Voldemort dreams, but at the same time, for once he wished he wasn't.  
  
   
  
Hermione had listened to all of this with her arms around Harry's shoulder and her head resting against his.  Ron, who wasn't quite sure what to say, spent a lot of time saying nothing and looking forlorn and useless at his shoes.  
  
   
  
That was why Mrs. Weasley's scream came with a much needed break of comedic relief.  For once, her fright wasn't followed by a cry of 'Fred and George Weasley!' but this time "Ronald Weasley!  You get down here and dismantle this creepy thing this instant!"   
  
   
  
****  
  
   
  
That evening, when Hermione, Ron, and Harry assembled for dinner they learned some very promising news.  Mrs. Weasley was waiting for them, although she looked a bit pressed for time.  She'd  made sure the evening meal was set out and that they'd have everything they needed before turning to the group "Arthur and I are going to meet Tonks in London along with the rest of the Order." she explained. "That means you three...or rather, you four, will be on your own tonight.  Hermione, as the woman of the house, I'm leaving the kitchen up to you. I know you'll delegate responsibility properly. If you can, try and get Draco to eat, hm? He's looking a bit thin lately."  
  
   
  
She left in a disorganized flurry only to reappear a second time moments later.  "And Harry," She seemed to calm down slightly as she said his name, reaching out to touch his head and attempt to smooth his wild hair.  "We're really glad to have you here again."  
  
   
  
"Thanks."  Harry smiled warmly at her in return. "I'm glad to be here, too."  
  
   
  
Molly pulled Harry into a light motherly hug while addressing the other two, especially Ron if the direction of her gaze said anything. "Make sure you're in bed by midnight, you've got a long day ahead of you tomorrow!"  Releasing Harry, Mrs. Weasley left the kitchen and then the house successfully, without having to return again.  
  
   
  
"Glad that's over."  As the front door closed finally for the last time, Ron allowed himself to slump in his seat. "It's really tough since Fred and George moved out.  Ginny n' me are the only ones left in the house. I think it's really starting to get to my mum."  
  
   
  
"Where is Ginny anyway?"  Harry had noticed rather quickly that the youngest Weasley wasn't around as she always seemed to be.  
  
   
  
Hermione opened the pans Mrs. Weasley had set on the table and began to dish out portions. "She's staying with some of her friends over the summer, right Ron?"  
  
   
  
"Yeah," he replied blandly. He was more intent on his plate being filled with Shepard's pie and buttery green beans than talking about his little sister.  "Not that I mind, only that it means that I get hollered at every time something goes wrong."    
  
   
  
"Well, Ron," Hermione calculated as she set down the plate in front of him, "if something goes wrong and there's no one else in the house but you and your parents, then shouldn't you get yelled at anyway? You're the only cause left."  
  
   
  
The way her smile beamed at him made Ron growl. "No, Hermione, there's so much clutter everywhere at the Burrow, who knows what else lives there with us."  
  
   
  
Harry laughed.  
  
   
  
"My, my."  The drawl of Draco Malfoy was unmistakable.  "If this isn't the most touching family portrait ever.  Although, I'm not sure but, I think polygamy is illegal in England.  Sorry Granger."    
  
   
  
It wasn't a surprise to anyone when Draco took a seat at the head of the table.  
  
   
  
"Oh great," Ron complained loudly. "Who moved Malfoy's rock on the way down here? I told you all to be careful or he'd crawl out!"  
  
   
  
"Funny, Weasley."  Draco dragged the dinner casserole towards him, helping himself. "Slop again, I see," he said as a spoonful of dinner plopped lifelessly onto his plate.  "I know the three of you are probably used to it by now but I can't wait to get back to Hogwarts. I can't take much more of this swill day in and day out."  
  
   
  
"You are such a clod, Malfoy!"  Hermione snapped at him. "Can't you say anything nice for once in your life?"  
  
   
  
"Believe me, Granger, I try but..."  He took a bite of the pie, making a face as he chewed. "The three of you really don't provide much material."  
  
   
  
"Merlin, just shut up." Harry sounded tired, trying to break up the argument for once instead of perpetuating it.  "Can't we just enjoy a meal without having to bicker and snipe at each other like little kids?"  
  
   
  
Hermione beamed at Harry for being so mature.  
  
   
  
"I don't know, Potter."  Draco wasn't ready to give Harry a break as he lifted another fork full of the dinner and let it dribble back down onto the plate. "I don't know if there's a charm strong enough to make me enjoy this."  
  
   
  
Draco was more than a little annoyed, he found, when Harry chose to watch his plate instead of look over at him.  What was with this sudden fad of apathy?  He had really been looking forward to getting in a good row with Potter once he'd found out that he'd finally came to 12 Grimmauld Place instead of simply being a part of an eavesdropped discussion.  
  
   
  
"So," Draco, who couldn't stand the sound of silence not filled by his own voice, began anew, "where'd the Order of the Idiots go tonight that they can't be here to enjoy this sludge with us?"  
  
   
  
The Slytherin lit up slightly as he finally got a reaction out of Harry, the boy groaning as he pushed his plate away and covered his face with his hands. "Can't you just shut up Malfoy! For one meal, my first meal here, can't you give us all a break and not say anything!  I would think that everything that's happened to you would at least cow you somewhat!  But it seems you're the same twitchy ferret as always!"  
  
   
  
Draco tried to remind himself at that moment, that earlier in the day he'd made a conscious decision.  Just that morning he'd decided that he was going to change his future. He was going to change it by actually giving himself one.  He couldn't spoil that here by losing his temper.  If he was going to have a chance he'd have to swallow back his anger and take this insult.  
  
   
  
But Draco Malfoy was never very good at taking any insult.  That was why he was on his feet and shouting before he even knew what he was doing.  "I should just sit here and let you be in peace?  Potter! Are you daft?  Let you be! I'll never let you be! I won't let you be anything except maybe dead!" He leaned over the table to hiss at him. "Everything that happened to me is your fault. I warned you, I warned you last year. I won't let you get away with what you did to my family!  I won't stop. I won't go away.  I won't leave you alone until you're a broken, ba-"  
  
   
  
"Blah, blah, blah!"  Harry had risen to his feet also and was glaring over at Draco across the corner of the table. "You say the same rubbish every year but you never do anything!  Do something about it  instead of talking us all to death, Malfoy, because your voice really grates on my nerves!"  
  
   
  
Do something about it!  Draco did do something about it and without so much as a thought.  His wand was out and as quickly as a spell could be said, the pitcher of juice that Mrs. Weasley had left out for them dumped itself all over Harry.  A moment later, the copper container bounced off the Gryffindor's head with a dull thunk and hit the floor.  
  
   
  
Hermione gasped and scrambled from her seat to Harry's side. "Are you okay? Harry! Let me see!"  She tried to pry Harry's arms away as he wrapped them around his head with a groan.  
  
   
  
"I'm going to kill you!"  Ron shouted and launched himself at Draco.  He collided with the blonde who had been watching Harry quite smugly, tackling him to the ground.  
  
   
  
"Ron stop!"  Harry had succumb to Hermione's examination until Ron had started another physical fight.  "It's not worth getting into a fig-ow!"  
  
   
  
"Sorry, Harry."  
  
   
  
"It's not worth getting into a fight over!"  
  
   
  
Ron paused, his fist lifted, poised to sock Draco right in the face.  Malfoy looked smug, his wand jabbing against Ron's chest.  
  
   
  
"He's going to get a notice from the Ministry anyway!"  Harry brushed Hermione's hands from his head as he wiped the juice from his face with his shirt. "We're not allowed to do magic outside of school!"  
  
   
  
"Oh that's right."  The revelation made Ron smile as he looked down at Draco, pushing him into the ground once more before he got to his feet.  "It is illegal isn't it. I bet the Ministry's just looking for an excuse to throw you in jail too, Malfoy!"  
  
   
  
Draco sneered at him as he slowly picked himself up too, brushing off his clothes .  He didn't say anything. He was thinking much along the same lines.  
  
   
  
The four of them waited in silence for an owl to swoop into 12 Grimmauld place with a letter from Mafalda Hopkirk to warn Draco of his crime.  
  
   
  
They waited. And waited.  
  
   
  
"How long did it take you to get your letters, Harry?"  
  
   
  
"You got letters for this, Potter?"  Draco seemed to find pleasure in that.  "I knew they should have expelled you long ago."  
  
   
  
Harry gave Draco a bitter look. "Not this long."  
  
   
  
"Well, maybe it's not coming."  Looking like he'd already gotten away with it, Draco folded his arms over his chest. Getting away with breaking the law for a little while must be part of the Malfoy charm.  
  
   
  
When a letter still hadn't arrived fifteen minutes later, Draco gave up waiting for it altogether. "Well I guess that just goes to show you."  He drawled and leaving the messy kitchen behind him, he disappeared upstairs.  
  
   
  
"It's not fair!" Ron bellowed after Draco had left, giving the pitcher on the floor a swift kick. It skittered across the floor and dented on the edge of a dresser.  "How come he always gets away with everything!" 


	5. Chapter Five: Diagon Alley

Chapter Five  
  
The next morning Mrs. Weasley demanded that everyone attend breakfast. It made for a very full table. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Lupin, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and even Draco (although the blonde looked more surly and moody than usual as he'd been dragged downstairs in his pajamas) sat over plates of bacon and eggs, pancakes and fruit salad.  
  
"Now after breakfast," Molly was saying as she finally sat to eat, pouring maple syrup over nearly everything on her plate, eggs aside, "I want all of you to get clean, get dressed, and come back down. We're all going to Diagon Alley today to collect your school things."  
  
"Diagon Alley?" Ron couldn't believe his ears. "Already? Isn't it a bit early for that sort of thing?" He was much more inclined to spend forever in summer vacation, if he could, and with still over a month of it to go, Hogwarts wasn't something he even wanted to start thinking about yet. Although school with Harry and Hermione was okay, it was still school. That meant classes and homework and dealing with Snape.  
  
"I guess that's one of the benefits of having the Headmaster drop by every now and then during the summer." Mrs. Weasley seemed glad to be able to do this shopping now. Maybe a little too eager, Ron thought.  
  
Draco stood up suddenly, his breakfast plate untouched and slowly growing cold on the table. "I'm not going." He announced, and stepped away from the table and out of the kitchen.  
  
Mrs. Weasley watched him go and shook her head. "That boy, Arthur, I swear. I don't know how someone can stand to be so disagreeable every single day."  
  
"Don't worry, mum," Ron snorted. "He's had years of practice."  
  
Harry cast a sideways smile at Hermione.  
  
"I don't know how his mother did it." She sighed and took another bite of her breakfast.  
  
"He just needs some time to adjust I'm sure," Lupin buttered his toast lazily.  
  
"It's okay, Mrs. Wealsey." Harry finished his breakfast and the last bit of his juice before he got to his feet. "I'll go talk to him."  
  
"You will?" Ron and Hermione both asked, Ron's fork dropping from his mouth and onto the floor. While the red head ducked beneath the table to retrieve the utensil, Harry excused himself.  
  
For Harry, it really wasn't that difficult to find Draco Malfoy in a house like 12 Grimmauld Place. The rooms the Slytherin haunted weren't many and by far, the most common was Draco's own bedroom. Probably, Harry surmised, because he could close the door.  
  
Unfortunately for Draco, he couldn't lock the door.  
  
It was because of this that he couldn't stop Harry when he let himself in. Of course, what Harry walked in on made him wish he had at least knocked.  
  
"Potter, get out!" Harry barely had chance to escape before a book crashed into the slamming door just where his head had been as he ducked into the hallway.   
  
"That was so stupid!" Harry scolded himself as he leaned against the wall next to Draco's door. It had been possibly the stupidest mistake he'd ever made. He held his hands over his pale face just in time to feel blood rise up in his cheeks as he blushed.   
  
He'd just walked in on a naked Draco Malfoy!  
  
"Sorry!" He called to the still closed door as the thought of what he'd just seen and done formed solidly in his mind. Harry was beginning to think that maybe he should just leave. This obviously wasn't worth it, nor working, and no one downstairs would begrudge him this failure. He was just about to push off the wall to give up when the door opened again and a thankfully fully clothed Draco appeared, glaring death.  
  
"Malfoy I'm really sorry," Harry said again, wishing he wasn't blushing when Malfoy finally appeared. Of course seeing him also made Harry red all over again.  
  
"I'm going to kill you!" The blonde informed him, stepping out of his room and towards him.  
  
Harry backed away. "I said I was sorry!"  
  
"I am going to dismember you slowly and them beat you with your limbs until you stop moving!  
  
Harry soon found himself back against the wall. "Look!" He exclaimed loudly. "If I could take it back I would! I swear to Merlin! If I knew I would have knocked. I'd rather kiss a flesh-eating slug than see something like that again!"  
  
"See what again?"  
  
Draco turned his knife like gaze on Hermione and Ron who were just now coming up the stairs.  
  
"Nothing." Harry and Draco said together, a fact which turned the blonde's glare back to Harry (how dare he mimic him!) much to the relief of the other two Gryffindors.  
  
Backing away from the three of them to relax against the wall, Draco's glare calmed somewhat as Ron and Hermione joined Harry's side. "I guess it's not going so well, huh, Harry?" Hermione took his arm and gave him an encouraging smile.  
  
"This is ridiculous. Don't talk about me like I'm not right here in front of you! And especially like I'm something you need to repair." Draco shook his head and abandoning the three of them in the hallway he disappeared into his room again.  
  
"Oh well, Harry, we tried!" Ron turned around, and like Draco before him, also tried to escape but Hermione grabbed him by the back of his shirt and tugged him backwards to rejoin the group.   
  
Harry had a look of determination on his face now that the color had faded from his cheeks. He followed Draco into his room and since the door had been left open this time, he didn't have to worry about knocking.  
  
"I know why you don't want to go with us, Malfoy." He informed the blonde who was sitting on his bed with his back propped up against the wall and the book he'd thrown at Harry earlier open on his thighs.  
  
"Oh really, do tell." He had also calmed down enough to manage a bored tone as Harry spoke, turning the page.  
  
Ron and Hermione were close at Harry's heels. When they stepped into his room, Hermione was delighted and Ron disgusted to find the place immaculate. Nothing was out of order, although the expensive black and brass trunk leaning open against the wall seemed out of place. Apparently Draco hadn't done much for moving in.  
  
"Because," Harry replied, moving towards him. "You're embarrassed to be seen with us. If someone you knew or your family knew saw you there with the likes of our group, you'd be completely mortified."  
  
Ron drifted away from Hermione's side and moved over to Draco's trunk, peering into it curiously. Draco followed the red head with his eyes and sighed, getting up from the bed. "That's where you're wrong, Potter. I don't care what other people thing." He closed the lid on the trunk just as Ron dared to reach inside. Luckily, he'd managed to get his fingers out before they were pinched. "The Malfoys," Draco continued with proud airs as he glanced at the dark haired Gryffindor "have no peers."  
  
"Maybe not," Ron said gleefully, "but I bet by now they have at least five if not six voices bouncing around in their skulls."  
  
Draco grit his teeth. He couldn't stop himself from glaring at Ron when he said that. He couldn't help the picture that formed in his mind of how satisfying it would be to beat Ron into something unrecognizable as human. He could force himself to sneer though, which he did, and replied in as nice a voice as he could manage, "oh, I'd imagine so by now."  
  
Although Ron looked baffled to have not started a fight, the way Draco's hands shook at his sides didn't escape Harry's attention. "You should go with us, Malfoy," Harry interjected. "It'll be the only chance you'll have to get your school things. You can't show up the first day without anything. Unless, of course, you want to spend the school year here also."  
  
"Not on your life," the blonde replied stiffly.  
  
"Well then I don't see how you could afford to stay here."  
  
"I dunno, Harry," Ron spoke up finally. "I guess mum could get his things for him."  
  
"Absolutely not." Draco sounded near horrified.  
  
"Well then..." Hermione ventured when neither boy said anything. Harry was smiling, it made Draco sick to see him so happy about something like this. What would he care if he went with them to get his school things or not? Maybe Harry thought he could get a good laugh watching Draco Malfoy final forced to count knuts.  
  
"I suppose if anything it'll be amusing to see just how dusty Weasley's vault at Gringotts really is."  
  
"That's not funny, Malfoy." Ron was leading the way to the door. Whether Draco went with them or not wasn't something he cared about. His mother scolding him for not being ready on time, however, was something he didn't want to dare. "Especially coming from someone whose living off of a stipend from the Ministry."  
  
Draco colored, but before he could throw anything at them, Harry, who had learned from experience, rushed Hermione out the door after Ron and closed it tightly behind them.  
  
****  
  
For Harry, the view of Diagon Alley at this time of year, was far different from any he'd seen before. They were there so early the usual crowds of Hogwarts students and their parents were absent from the narrow, advertisement laced street. Now, the flow of traffic was smooth and easy, although it was still busy enough that if they separated they'd have a time of it trying to get together again.  
  
"Alright, now." Mrs. Weasley dolled out lists to each of them, still having one for herself since she was there to make sure Ginny got everything she needed as well. Harry glanced over the usual list of supplies and books and smiled. It was nice to have this particular piece of paper in his hands again. "I know it's hopeless for all of us to stay in groups so let's just say we'll meet in front of Gringotts at noon, alright?"  
  
Harry nodded along with the rest of them, except for Draco, who was barely listening as he eyed the list in one hand and then the small bag of money he had in the other. When Harry glanced back up to Mrs. Weasley she had already gone.  
  
"What's the matter, Malfoy?" Ron asked, ready to retort with something mean and scathing the moment Draco replied.  
  
"Nothing, Weasley,"Draco slid the money into his pocket and folded up the paper. "I've just never had to do this before, usually we just send out a servant."  
  
That obviously wasn't what Ron was expecting because despite the eager look on his face before, he never said anything. Not that the blonde had waited around to hear it! The moment he finished speaking Draco had turned and was leaving the group behind.  
  
"Hey Malfoy!" Harry called after him, earning a glance back from the Slytherin. "Are you sure you don't want any help with that?"  
  
Draco gave him an 'are you really that stupid' look before starting away again. "I think, somehow I'll manage."  
  
After he'd left, Hermione announced their schedule to the boys. They would go straight down to the list. First Flourish and Blots since they were outside of the bank and it was closest, next the stationary store for quills and parchment, then pick up their magical instruments, stop by Quality Quidditch Supply (this step was an amendment later added in by Ron and Harry after a great deal of arguing in which Hermione did well, considering it was two against one), and finally the apothecary.   
  
About halfway through their Hogwarts lists, and after Hermione couldn't take anymore time in Quality Quidditch Supplies, the trio decided to take a break with some ice cream. They back tracked a little bit, weaving through the crowds gathered on either sides of the street to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.  
  
While the trio sat down beneath one of the umbrella covered outdoor tables and situated their bags around them, Hermione pointed down the alley only a short distance away where a familiar blonde was crossing from one side of the street to the other. "Isn't that Malfoy over there?"  
  
"Who cares?" Ron asked as he licked a long string of caramel off of his dessert.  
  
"Where?" Harry, however, was interested. He glanced around his Gryffindor dorm mate trying to get a good look where Hermione had pointed. "Oh yeah. I wonder where he's going."  
  
"Maybe he's going into Gambol and Japes," Hermione offered.  
  
"Impossible!" Ron laughed out loud as he finally turned to see what everyone else was looking at. "He doesn't have a sense of humor. He's probably going to that second hand robe shop that's down there."  
  
"Ron that isn't funny." Hermione gave him a pinched glare.  
  
"Yes it is, Hermione, trust me. It's funny."  
  
"I think he's going into Knockturn Alley." Harry, the only one in the group who had been to Knockturn Alley before, had also been the only one to notice as Draco detoured off of the main drag and onto the side street.  
  
"What!" Ron exclaimed, getting to his feet so quickly his ice cream rolled off of his cone on onto the floor. "Oh bugger it all!"   
  
Hermione pointed and laughed at him. "Serves you right, Ron!"  
  
"I can't believe it." The red head scowled at his ice cream already melting on the stones beneath their feet and then, with disdain, tossed his useless cone onto the table. "I can't believe I'm actually getting scolded for making fun of Draco sodding Malfoy!"  
  
"Come on, let's see what he's up to." Harry, who didn't seem to really want his ice cream all that much, passed the dessert over towards Ron and grabbed his bags, starting after the now disappeared blonde.  
  
"Finally someone who sees it my way!" Ron was on Harry's heels, his own bags held in one hand while the other housed the ice cream his friend had passed back.  
  
"This isn't a good idea." Naturally, Hermione had to play devil's advocate, the only one in the group with any sense at all. "Your mom would get so mad if she knew you were going into Knockturn Alley, Ron. It's really not a place that decent people should be seen in!"  
  
"If you want, Hermione, you can wait for us in front of Gringotts. I'll even let you watch all of our bags." Ron cast her a glance over his shoulder, still a little bit miffed that she'd taken Malfoys side, yet again, over his own.  
  
"No thanks, Ronald Weasley, but if your mother asks if we were here I'm not going to lie to her."  
  
"Yeah I'm sure whether or not we popped into ole Knockturn Alley is really going to come up in a normal conversation." Ron rolled his eyes, running into Harry's arm when he stopped suddenly to peek down into the side alley.  
  
Everything was just as Harry remembered it. Knockturn Alley still reminded him of a slum with its filthy streets and filthier street walkers. Dodgy witches and wizards selling questionable wares, and not always in shops. "He's probably in Borgin and Burkes," Harry said, more to himself than the two following behind him.  
  
"Okay," Harry began and turned around to address his two friends. "Keep your head down, don't talk to anyone, and walk with purpose. Chances are no one will bug you if you look like you know what you're doing." Of course since the three of them were such obvious children he was sure there was nothing they could do to escape detection completely, but they could still try.  
  
"Right." Hermione agreed verbally, Ron nodding beside her.  
  
"Okay." And with that, Harry ventured over the invisible threshold that separated Diagon from Knockturn, the unabashed sunlight and the embarrassed, secret shadows. He held to his own advice, marching down the alley with narrowed eyes and his hands in loose fists at his sides. He thought he could hear Hermione and Ron behind him so he didn't have to glance back.  
  
His plan seemed to work, as well. The shady denizens of the Alley, mostly loitering clumps of two or three making whispered business deals in the street, paid him little attention if only an upwards glance every now and then.  
  
Harry didn't stop a single time until he reached Borgin and Burke's. Sure enough, he could see Malfoy through the grimy windows, his hands on the counter as behind it Borgin, the shop keeper, laughed at him. Draco looked about ready to commit murder.  
  
Feeling the presence of another body behind him Harry laid out the next leg of their plan. "Alright, we'll go in there. We should just go in and take him out. He shouldn't be here anyway, especially with the position his parents are in right now. Okay?"  
  
"You sound more like you're trying to convince yourself!" A voice that was neither Hermione's or Ron's replied and was followed by a dry, shrill cackle.  
  
Harry whirled around and found himself standing face to face with an aged wizard dressed in ragged clothes with a dirty face and greasy white hair clumped with grime. His teeth were half rotted out of his face. But what made it truly terrible was the fact that he had no eyes. The spaces where his eyes should have been were covered with a mess of shiny, old scars.  
  
Harry's eyes widened and he took a step back right into the front window of Borgin and Burke's. The glass rattled and although he didn't notice, behind him, both Borgin and Draco turned at the noise. Borgin's brows furrowed in annoyed curiosity and Draco's murderous gaze was lost as he closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose.  
  
"Get away from me!" Harry felt dirty and slimy all over as the old man continued to laugh and laugh. Harry slid away from the store front and as quickly as he could, he ducked inside the Dark Arts shop and slammed the door loud enough to rattle a candlestick off of its place on a shelf and to the floor. "Malfoy! We're getting out of here, right now!"  
  
"As amusing as your visit has been, I think your little friend has the right idea, brat." Borgin snapped at Draco. "And if that candlestick is broken it's going on your bill!"  
  
"I don't have a bill." Draco replied acidly. He didn't seem about ready to leave yet, not empty handed. But at the same time it wasn't as if he could collect personal things like he needed with Harry right there!   
  
Harry joined Draco by the counter and took hold of the other boy by the elbow, pulling him away from the counter. "Come on. We're getting out of here, you shouldn't be in shady places like this, Malfoy."  
  
"Oh get off of me!" Draco turned and grabbed Harry by the front of his robes and shoved him backwards. He could see Borgin's eyes flicker over Harry's face and forehead as the Gryffindor stumbled back, catching himself before he fell into a shelf of shrunken heads, and then smile slyly. It made Draco uneasy.  
  
"So that's what you're up to is it?" Mr. Borgin looked devilish, pressing his fingers against the counter top and leaning over it with a slithering smile. "Well, I suppose that's to be expected given the nature of–"  
  
Draco gave Borgin a withering glare of his own as Harry took hold of his arm again and gave him another pull. "If it wasn't for my family this store would have gone under years ago."  
  
At that, Borgin began to laugh even as Draco snapped his arm out of Harry's grasp again and turned on his own to leave the store and the laughing man behind.  
  
Only when they were outside in the relative calm of the Alley could Harry ask, "what was that all about, Malfoy?"  
  
"I'm trying to remember just when it became a part of your business, Potter," the blonde snarled, tugging down the sleeve of his shirt that Harry had messed up with all of his whiney pulling and pleading. "What do you think you're doing anyway? I can go where I please."  
  
"I know but..." Harry began, his voice trailing off. Of course Draco was right. He wasn't anyone that had the right to police another human being. "I just didn't think it would be a very good idea for you to be seen in a place like this."  
  
"Why's that, Potter?" He seethed. Draco seemed at ease here in the same Alley that made Harry cringe. Of course, when he had first come to Knockturn Alley back in second year, Harry did remember seeing the other boy here with his father. Draco had probably been coming here for years, since he was little.  
  
"Well, because of your parents." He tried not to sound so serious, but Harry couldn't keep the worried crease from his brow.  
  
"My parents that you put in Azkaban you mean?" Draco's tone dared the other boy to say just the wrong thing.  
  
"No, Malfoy, your parents put themselves in Azkaban. They made the choices in their life that they did!" Of course Harry took the bait, growling back his reply. He wasn't going to put up with Draco if he was going to whine and complain and make up excuses for his parents. He wasn't going to stand for Lucius Malfoy being a victim. That wasn't even what mattered. "You know, you don't have to make those same choices."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"   
  
"Uhm..." Harry suddenly felt out of place even though he had been secretly planning this conversation for a while. "Well, I was just thinking that maybe you might want to choose to follow a different future than the one they're stuck in."  
  
Draco stared at him for a while, gray eyes narrowed on Harry's face even though the Gryffindor was longer looking at him. He sighed, annoyed, and rubbed the back of his neck and stiff shoulders before smoothing his hair back from his forehead with his fingers. "Whatever, Potter. Where are your two side kicks anyway?"  
  
That's right! Hermione and Ron hadn't followed him into Borgin and Burke's. Had they even followed him into the alley? How had they gotten separated? "I don't know. We all came in together. I think we did, anyway."  
  
"Oh, well, if they got lost by now they're probably in some deranged witch or wizard's stew pot." Understandably unconcerned about the whereabouts of a mudblood and a pauper, Draco started back towards Diagon Alley. He still had all of his own school supplies to purchase.  
  
"They are not." Harry didn't enjoy Draco's morbid sense of humor. He glanced down one side of the street and up another but he didn't see any red hair. He did see the back of Draco's head though as the Slytherin left. "Malfoy!" Harry jogged after him and took hold of his arm when he caught up. "You have to help me find them!"  
  
"They're practically grown, they should be able to take care of themselves. And if they can't, well, they probably shouldn't have come here in the first place." Draco pulled his arm away for a third time and vowed if Harry grabbed him again he'd hex him. He stepped out of Knockturn Alley and back onto the busier streets.  
  
"Hey, Harry! Over here!"   
  
The sound of his name turned Harry's attention away from the gloomy alley behind him as Ron appeared around the corner up ahead only a few steps away from Draco. "Look!" He pointed down the street. "There's some sort of commotion going on!"  
  
Both annoyed that Ron and Hermione hadn't followed him into Knockturn Alley, and relieved at the same time that they hadn't, Harry stepped around the corner and rose on his toes to see just what Ron was pointing at.  
  
There defiantly was something afoot. The street had congested with a thick swarm of people all trying to get a peek at something that was happening further ahead. "What is it?" Harry asked, hopping once. He was smaller than most wizards his age, to see anything over the heads of adults was near impossible. "I can't see anything."  
  
"Either can I," Ron was much taller and still couldn't see anything, either.   
  
The force of the crowd turned so suddenly Harry barely had time to press himself against the wall of a shop to get out of the way. It erupted into screams and cries and everywhere, everyone that had stopped was trying to get away. Wizards and witches, without any regard to the welfare of those around them, surged down the narrow alley, pushing and clawing, fighting to escape. Harry saw with wide eyes as someone fell, but they were swallowed up by the crowd of people before he could even think to do anything.  
  
"What's going on? What's happening!" Ron shouted over to Harry as he curled an arm around Hermione, holding her between his body and the wall to protect her from the stampede as it threatened to sweep them away.  
  
"I don't know!" Harry yelled back, although he wasn't sure if Ron even heard him. A new round of terror filled screams arose as above them, in smokey green color, the Dark Mark exploded in the blue sky. Instantly, Harry found himself turning towards Draco.  
  
The blonde was staring at the sky, his eyes lighting on the mark. Harry wasn't quite sure what it was that he saw in Draco's gaze, but he hoped it was shock, if not fear. "Malfoy," Harry said slowly, his tone underlined with the unasked questions 'what's going on? What should we do?'.  
  
The sound of his name seemed to spur Draco into action. He gave Harry an exasperated 'you owe me' look and then announced. "Well come on then. You three really are a helpless bunch aren't you?" And then, without waiting to see if they'd follow (because he knew Harry would), Draco turned back into Knockturn Alley. 


	6. Chapter Six: Rodolphus Lestrange

Chapter Six  
  
It was difficult to follow the action in Diagon Alley from the hidden position behind two gray buildings that Draco had taken them to. "What's going on? Can you see anything? Let me see what's going on." Ron had been forced into their hiding place first so he was the farthest away from the entrance and thus the farthest away from any glimpse of the action.   
  
In fact, all Ron could see was the same thing that everyone could see, probably even the muggles in London outside the Alley. The giant, green Dark Mark still hovered in the sky, streaking slightly like smoke because of the light breeze. The air was the only thing that didn't seem to be afraid of the taboo magic. The wind smelled thickly of smoke, it was something to be feared on it's own.  
  
Draco, however, was guarding the front. He leaned against one building, his arms folded over his chest and his feet propped up against the opposing wall. He had a perfect view of the tiny glimpse of Diagon Alley that they did have, as did Harry who peered down the dark street from his position, standing against the wall with Draco's feet.  
  
"There's nothing to see, Ron, trust me." Harry replied, although he didn't take his eyes off of the view that he did have. Shortly after the Dark Mark had appeared, the unmistakable pops of apparating wizards could be heard. He hoped it meant that Aurors were on the scene.  
  
"Nothing to see," Draco echoed "unless you count You Know Who in a tutu. Oh, look Potter, there he goes again. I've never seen a pirouette like that before. Really, who knew he had the ankle strength."  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all gave Draco the same dead look. Draco had just made a joke. A terrible joke. In fact, Harry thought, it could have possibly been the worse joke he'd ever heard in his entire life.  
  
"Right, Malfoy," Ron sounded a little distracted as he shook the memory of the bad joke from his mind. "I think you should stick to being an insufferable git, alright?"  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?" Draco watched as the last bits of rampaging crowd trickled away and died.   
  
"Never mind," Harry said quickly and stepped over Draco's feet. "Everyone's stopped running. Come on, Malfoy, let's see what's going on." The last thing any of them needed was for another quarrel to break out. "Ron you wait here with Hermione, alright?" When Ron looked about ready to protest, he added, "and keep your wand out. You just might need it."  
  
"Right, Harry." He reached into his pocket to remove his wand as Draco rolled his eyes and started towards Diagon Alley, Harry at his heels. "Off to save the world again, Potter?" He asked once they had left the other two Gryffindors far enough behind them. "I hope you don't expect me to back you up. If any trouble starts up..."  
  
"I know, I know." Harry could finish that statement on his own. "You'll be running in the opposite direction, just like first year. I know all about it." As they neared the entrance to Knockturn Alley, He reached into his back pocket to take out his wand.  
  
"Oh." Draco watched Harry arm himself with an amused arch of a brow. This certainly wasn't anything he knew he needed to get worked up over. Harry, however, was another story. It was very likely that if there were any Death Eaters about, they'd certainly want an opportunity to earn favor and kill the Boy Who Lived. "Well, then why did I have to be the one to come with you?"  
  
"I couldn't leave you back there." He explained, pausing just at the mouth of the Alley although he was still concealed by its shadows. Harry knew he couldn't afford to be distracted once he stepped out into a battlefield. "You and Ron would both be unconscious or worse by the time I got back."  
  
Draco shook his head slowly. 'I'm sorry, Potter,' the gesture said, 'that just doesn't make sense.' "If that were the case," he decided to voice his opinion just in case a simple shake of the head didn't convey the correct meaning. "You could have just taken Weasley instead."  
  
Harry didn't say anything, looking at Draco before his face settled into one of grim determination and he turned back towards Diagon Alley.  
  
"I see how it is," the blonde drawled. "It's probably better this way, Potter, you're right. After all I'm not a very trustworthy person."  
  
"That's not what I meant, Malfoy!" But before Harry could really explain himself, Draco had moved briskly past and out into Diagon Alley. A rather empty Diagon Alley. There was something wrong about seeing this particular street vacant, as if the heart of the little shopping district were missing. The silence was creepy, the shops waiting breathlessly for something to happen.   
  
Harry followed Draco out, their previous conversation falling prey to the far more disturbing sight before them. Where people had once milled about and shopped, met friends, laughed, and enjoyed themselves was now chaos and waste. "What a mess," he muttered.  
  
Whatever people were doing they had dropped instantly at the sight of the Dark Mark. Shopping bags were left abandoned, tipped over, scattered, forgotten in the mad rush to flee. Scraps and loose paper lay scattered about in places, a few of the tables and chairs outside the ice cream parlor had been tipped over and rocked slightly still. There were several large lumps of robes here and there that Harry sincerely hoped weren't people.  
  
"This is quite the opportunity," Draco announced as a breeze slammed one of the doors to a shop closed. Harry realized then that it wasn't the only door that had been left open. It seemed even the shop keepers had fled, abandoning even their livelihood. The blonde stooped next to an abandoned shopping bag and lifted the edge to peek inside.  
  
Harry watched him with a wooden expression. He'd seen Draco do something like this back in second year with Christmas candy but this was a tiny step above nicking sweets. "Malfoy what do you think you're doing? You can't just go stealing other people's stuff!"  
  
"I haven't stolen anything yet, Potter, I'm just taking a peek." Draco drawled as he took out a wild hat from a round box inside the bag and placed it on his head, brushing his fingers through the long pheasant feather to straighten it. "How do I look?"  
  
"Like an idiot! Now put it back!"  
  
"I don't think I could have said it any better myself!"   
  
Both Harry and Draco turned just in time to see a gangly looking wizard stumble out of Madam Malkins, clothed in several layers of mismatched robes and cloth. His long, black hair was pulled back in a messy, many times knotted pony tail, and there was something haunted about his icy blue eyes that made Harry think of black holes.  
  
He wove slightly as he walked towards them, probably under the weight of all the cloth he'd wrapped around his body. "Harry Potter I presume!" The stranger pitched forward. At first Harry thought he was going to fall flat on his face but soon realized it was just a bow. "And Young Master Draco Malfoy!" He slid on his heels over the stones and bowed to the blonde as well. "What an unfathomable pleasure to make your acquaintance!"  
  
"And you are?" Since Harry was too puzzled to ask, Draco spoke for him. He already had a pretty good idea just what the stranger was, though. He took a step closer to Harry, reaching into his robe pocket for his wand.  
  
"Now, now, now, don't be hasty!" The wizard stood up quickly, apparently too quickly, as the force of motion caused him to stumble back a few steps. "If either of you do any of that wand stuff I'm sure you'll get into all sorts of trouble. I'm no one special I swear. Just an innocent shopper, out to visit innocent shops, and purchase innocent goods!"  
  
"Somehow I find that extremely difficult to believe," Draco replied, his eyes lashing over the stranger. "I don't think any self respecting merchant would sell you such an ugly array of obviously mismatching clothing. You obviously stole that vomit-inspired ensemble."  
  
"Touché." The wizard grinned and laughed, lifting a finger to gesture that Draco had a point. "Of course, you're hardly one to speak yourself, crawling out of Knockturn Alley like you was. Were." He corrected himself at the last minute with a shake of his head.  
  
"But who are you?" Harry, for one, couldn't take the not knowing anymore.   
  
At his persistence, the gangly, skeleton-like wizard turned towards him with a broad smile. "Oh where are my manners. I'm sorry I'm so easily distracted. It's because, you know, there's really not too much left of me up here." He circled his ear with a finger in the air and stuck out his tongue. Harry just blinked. He'd never seen anyone make the crazy sign about themselves before. "My name is Lestrange. Rodolphus Lestrange."  
  
"Lestrange!" Harry knew the name instantly, it shot through his veins like ice water.  
  
Draco's eyes narrowed, looking from Harry and over to the man ahead of them. Rodolphus Lestrange was exactly the type of person Draco thought he was. A Death Eater. Harry, however, seemed to know this as well, and something else beyond.  
  
"Have you heard of me?" Rodolphus' dark brows rose excitedly as he leaned forward towards the pair.  
  
"Yes I've heard of you!" Harry growled, his fingers clenching around his wand so tightly his knuckles shone white against his skin. "You're the people that tortured Neville's parents! Bellatrix Lestrange is the woman that-" His voice broke off with a tremor and Harry's wand, which was now lifted and pointed at Rodolphus, began to tremble. "She-" He tried again but it was a vain attempt.  
  
"What? What did she do now? That gem of a woman! I tell you I had no idea she was such a spitfire when I married her." Looking like he'd done something anyone would be proud of, Rodolphus rocked back on his heels and folded his arms over his stomach.  
  
Behind him, Draco could see Harry straighten his wand from the corner of his eye. At the unspoken promise a raised wand brought, Rodolphus broke into a wide toothy grin.   
  
Draco, however, wasn't going to take any such foolishness. He grabbed Harry's hand and pushed the wand back down towards the ground. "Potter, don't be a total idiot."  
  
"Oh come on! You should let him at least be a little bit of an idiot." Rodolphus' grin persisted. He really looked like a skull that way, his thin skin pulled taut over his forehead, hollowed out cheeks, and all of those teeth. "I'm anxious to see the magic that stopped a Dark Lord!"  
  
"I'll show you, gladly!" Harry twisted his hand away from Draco and shoved the blonde away from him. Draco stumbled backwards and tripped over the shopping bag he'd previously looted and toppled to the ground, the hat slipping off his head and into the dust.  
  
Harry didn't notice as he lifted wand to point at Rodolphus' grinning face. "Cr-"   
  
Pop! Pop!  
  
Two people apparated in quickly. It was because of the dark, heavy cowled robes they wore that Harry decided he didn't need to see who their faces to know who they were. One pointed a wand directly at Harry when he faltered in his casting to make sure he couldn't complete the spell, and the other went to Rodolphus. "What are you doing?" The second hissed and began to tear the stolen cloth and robes from the wiry wizard's body .  
  
"Do you like it?" Rodolphus asked and tried to pose as he was being undressed, all the way to the black robes he wore beneath it all. "It the latest in–"  
  
"You really are an idiot!" Hissed the Death Eater as he grabbed Rodolphus' hood and pulled it over his head roughly. Harry and Draco, who was still glaring nails from the ground, would still be able to see Rodolphus' wide, disturbed skull grin. "You're not supposed to let anyone see your face! We're getting out of here, come on!"  
  
"Alright, alright." Rodolphus curled his fingers in a little wave to Harry and Draco before he and his partners apparated away.  
  
Their departure was followed quickly by another arrival, several seconds too late. Molly Weasley, in the company of Elphias Doge, the wheeze, gray haired wizard that Harry remembered from the Advance Guard that had come to collect him from Privet Drive last year, suddenly appeared where the Death Eaters had been standing a few moments before. While Molly immediately rushed to Harry and Draco, Elphias was scanning the area, his wand drawn.  
  
"Boys! Where's Ronald and Hermione? Oh you poor boys, are you alright? Were you hurt?" Molly didn't seem to know who or what to ask about first. She grabbed hold of Harry, pressing his cheeks together as her eyes darted over his body searching for anything out of place, any sign of violence.  
  
"We're fine, really." Harry tried to reassure her. There was something terribly wrong with upsetting Mrs. Weasley like this, he thought. She was so sweet and cared about everyone, unnecessary worry wasn't something she deserved. "Ron and Hermione are okay too, they're hiding."  
  
When Molly deemed Harry truly 'fine' she wrapped her arms around him tightly in a hug. "Harry, I'm so glad! I'm so glad you're alright, I was so worried. If anything happened to any of you I don't know what I'd do!" Releasing him, the plump Weasley mother turned towards Draco.  
  
The blonde's eyes widened. He had since picked himself up off the ground, but now, as she turned his eyes to him, he backed away a step and held his hand up. "Don't you dare touch me. I'm fine too. Really."  
  
"Mum!" Ron and Hermione were just now stepping out of Knockturn Alley. The commotion Molly had raised, and the sound of her relief, had lead them out of the shadows and to believe that it was even safe to do so. "What happened? What's going on?"  
  
Mrs. Weasley was expectedly relieved to see her son unharmed. Ron and Hermione both got a hug at the same time. Ron looked embarrassed pressed against his mother and Hermione but the brown haired girl didn't seem to mind.  
  
"Molly," Elphias wheezed as he rejoined the group. "We shouldn't spend too much time here. You should probably take the children back to safety." His eyes were still darting from shop to shop and then up and down the Alley as if waiting for something terrible to spring out at them.  
  
"You're right, of course. This is no place for children!" Molly released her two captives and then gestured Harry and Draco closer. "You four stay close to me. We'll Floo back right away."  
  
Two more wizards apparated into the area, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mad-Eye Moody. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen Moody's eye as wild as it was now. It darted up and down, left and right, rolled and rolled in his head completely independent from the other.   
  
"Elphias!" Moody exclaimed as the two of them made the group of six now eight people strong. "What's going on?"  
  
"I'm taking the children home." Molly explained.   
  
"That's a good idea." Kingsley seemed to want to search the streets up and down just like Elphias had when he first arrived.  
  
"Well come on then." Moody's eye looked like it was about ready to pop out of his head. "They're around here somewhere I can feel it." He apparated out, Kingsley following shortly after. Elphias was the only one to nod goodbye to them before he too was gone.  
  
"Alright children, come on, let's all stay together now." Mrs. Weasley didn't waste any time in leading them away. Because Harry noticed that Molly had her wand out, he kept his own visible as well as they made their way to a fireplace so they could Floo themselves home.  
  
****  
  
"What's wrong, Ron, couldn't you sleep?" Hermione asked after the boy had let himself into her room. Even though Hermione was in her night gown and sitting up in her bed, her voice didn't sound drowsy at all. It was some time after midnight, she imagined, and she had been staring at the ceiling thinking about everything that had happened when Ron had come knocking at her door.  
  
"Not really." He admitted, closing the door all but a crack behind him. "Er, I'm not bothering you am I?" He paused when he saw her resting against her headboard with the covers in her lap. Hermione was wearing some sort of sleeveless white night shirt with a small strip of flowery lace around the collar woven with pink ribbon. Her hair was somewhat damp and pulled into two plaits on either side of her shoulders.  
  
"No." She admitted, and in truth she was relieved to see him. A friendly face soothed the troubles of her mind. "I'm glad you're here. I couldn't sleep either." Pushing the covers back finally, she got up, her night shirt falling to mid thigh with a pair of white pants sticking out a few inches above her ankle.  
  
Ron wasn't sure why he felt so awkward all of a sudden. Hermione certainly wasn't drop-dead gorgeous, not like Fleur Delacour in fourth year, who had been so good ad reducing him to a stammering puddle of embarrassment. Nor was she pretty like the Patil sisters, back at Hogwarts. But there was something defiantly special about her now, dressed all in white in the glowing half light of deep evening.  
  
Hermione hadn't been uncomfortable before, but now with Ron staring at her she felt a blush creep up into her cheeks as the memory of the kiss they'd shared over a week ago woke up in her mind. She turned away from him rather quickly and grabbed a robe hanging from the post on her bed, wrapping it around her tightly. "Well, Ron, what's up?"   
  
"Oh." He said, his eyes slowly widening. That's right. He probably wasn't supposed to come knocking on a girl's door in the middle of the night unless he wanted something right? "I just couldn't sleep. Harry looked like he was getting along alright so I didn't want to wake him up. It's just...this afternoon..."  
  
Hermione listened to him intently. Ron was finding it rather difficult to stay on his train of thought when she watched him with those dark brown eyes. He felt trapped whenever he looked at them. "I understand, Ron." She said after a minute and then smiled lightly, lifting her hands to touch her warm cheeks. "I'm glad you were there, I don't know what I would have done otherwise. I wouldn't want to stay in that Alley alone, but I didn't want to go out there with Harry either. I don't know what's wrong with me."  
  
"Nothings wrong with you, Hermione," Ron's brows furrowed slightly as she said that.  
  
But Hermione shook her head 'no' quickly, feeling her heart clench up inside her chest and tears well up in her eyes. "No there is something wrong with me! I've been trying to tell you all summer but I couldn't! Since the Department of Mysteries...I've been so afraid! I don't know why, I wasn't always like this but...but..."  
  
Ron stared at her, his eyes round, and dread rooting him in his spot. Hermione was crying? What was he supposed to do? She looked so small, hunched over her hands as she cried into them, the soft curve of her bare shoulder trembling. It was wrong of him to think she looked so attractive all of a sudden wasn't it? "Hermione." He heard himself croak and then wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close.  
  
The girl melted into his arms and against his body. Ron was amazed at how soft she felt and how strong it made him feel when her fingers curled slightly in the folds of his nightshirt. "It's alright, Hermione." He smoothed a hand down her head before resting it on he shoulders, the other holding her back. "There's nothing wrong with being afraid. Especially of something like that." When she didn't stop crying he added "I mean, it's not irrational. Not like being afraid of spiders or anything."  
  
Hermione sniffled. No, wait, she was laughing! She laughed a little bit against his shoulder and Ron smiled. "There you go." He said quietly and leaned back a little bit. He curled a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face from his chest. "You see, it's okay? We're even safe now." Carefully with his other hand he wiped away the wetness under her eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry." Hermione pulled away from him, still smiling. She wiped her own eyes with a groan. "I'm such an idiot sometimes. It's so stupid to cry, it isn't going to change anything!"  
  
"There's nothing wrong with crying." Ron watched her as she took her hands from her eyes, sniffling a little bit still.  
  
"Oh sure, Ron, that's why Harry always has to talk you out of the boy's toilet after you've locked yourself in, throwing a crying fit." She laughed again.  
  
"Hey." He managed to sound slightly offended. "That's secret boy business. You shouldn't know anything about that."  
  
Hermione glanced away from him a moment, her hands clasping in front of her. "Sorry, Ron. I'm so nosy, of course I found out."  
  
"It doesn't matter." He assured her and reclaimed the step away that she had taken earlier, bringing them closer together. "I don't mind if a girl knows, as long as that girl's you." When he took her shoulders, Hermione looked up at him again. Both of them knew what was coming and neither of them pulled away. "I wouldn't mind, Hermione, if you knew everything about me." He leaned forward.  
  
Hermione's cool fingers, still slightly damp from her tears, met Ron's face halfway, holding him steady as she leaned closer too, her eyes half closing. "I really wouldn't mind it either," She agreed before bringing their mouths together.  
  
****  
  
Harry didn't still have to be peeping in on them through the crack in the door that Ron had accidentally left to know what was going on in Hermione's room. In truth he hadn't been able to sleep as well as Ron had thought he had. He'd woken up a short time after his roommate had left in a cold sweat, tears in his eyes, and in complete, draining despair. It was always terrible when he woke up crying. Nothing felt as heavy and empty as that did.   
  
He'd seen that Ron had left, and naturally that brought him to the crack in Hermione's door. Hermione crying in Ron's arms. He wasn't sure what that meant, or how it had happened, but when Ron stepped closer to her, and she looked up at him and saw only Ron, Harry knew he should probably give them some privacy. He'd closed the door and left it behind, creeping down the stairs and being careful not to wake up Mrs. Black. Maybe a glass of tea or some warm milk would return him to tranquility so he could finally get some sleep.  
  
As Harry was about to step into the kitchen he noticed a light flickering in the drawing room. Curious, Harry abandoned his midnight venture and crept down the squeaky floorboards to peek inside the room. He almost left right away when he spotted none other than Draco Malfoy sitting against the arm of a sofa almost as big as he was. He was writing something, or so Harry assumed, although the quill in Draco's hand wasn't moving at the time.   
  
He cleared his throat and the blonde's eyes snapped up to the door. They narrowed slightly as they saw him there, although Harry thought the look was half hearted and tired. "What do you want, Potter? Don't you have something better to do than skulk around doorways at this time of night?"  
  
"I couldn't sleep." He admitted, although he sincerely wished he was, at that very moment, curled up in bed. His eyes felt so heavy it made Harry wonder if it was possible for someone to be too tired to rest. "I'd ask you the same thing."  
  
"Hmph." Draco sniffed and looked away from him, back to the parchment beneath his hand. Lifting his fingers and quill away, it rolled up on itself and fell into his lap. "And once again it's none of your business." He gathered the scroll and set it on an end table near the arm of the sofa.  
  
Harry noticed that Draco also had a warm cup of something steaming on that table, beside his paper. It made him wish he had grabbed a drink of his own before coming here. It was too late now, if he went to get tea and came back, Draco would probably be gone. He let himself in and took a seat in a dusty armchair.   
  
Looking around this room didn't help Harry's mood much. He remembered spending a great deal of time here with Ron, Hermione, and Sirius, going through all of the Black family treasures. His eyes flickered to the family tree tapestry he and Sirius had discussed in the past. That stupid tapestry that had Draco's name on it, but Sirius' blasted out.   
  
"You're writing a letter to your parents aren't you?" Harry asked to take his mind off of the angry train of his thoughts. "Hermione told me you write to them every day."  
  
"She's wrong." Draco replied. "There's no point in writing to them anymore. They're both completely insane by now, thank you very much." When Harry didn't say anything and just watched him, Draco pressed his fingers into the arm of the chair with a scowl. "I don't care about them anyway." He informed him in a harsh tone. "They can rot in Azkaban!. They deserve it for abandoning me in a place like this."  
  
"I don't believe you." Harry informed him. "There's no way that you feel that way about them, Draco."  
  
The blonde didn't even flinch at the mention of his first name. He didn't stop to ponder what that could mean either. "You don't know anything about me, Potter."  
  
"I know some things." He insisted. "I know that you write your parents every day and that you were writing to them just ten seconds ago!"  
  
"You mean this?" Draco asked as he snatched up the scroll in question. "This is the letter to my parents? You think I care so much about them, do you?" The blonde shifted in his seat to lean over a candle he had lit to write by, one of the handful that had earlier caught Harry's attention. He touched the edge of the curled parchment to the flame and let it catch fire. He held it out to show Harry, smoke curling up towards the ceiling as the thick paper shriveled into black carbon. "If this is my parents, Potter, this is what I hope happens to them."  
  
"You're such a liar." Harry sad flatly and got to his feet. He tore the flaming letter from Draco's hands, shaking out the fire. "What are you trying to prove anyway, Draco? If you don't care about me and what I think, why are you trying so hard to be tough?"  
  
"I don't care what you think." Draco insisted and grabbed the letter from Harry's hands. Shaking it wasn't going to do any good. He tossed it to the floor, the flames flaring up again easily and then stomped it out for good, reducing it to a black stain on the already thin carpet.  
  
Harry didn't look convinced and he glared at the spot on the floor where the letter had been dropped and then back up at Draco, who sneered back at him "You're such a bully, Draco. What would it take to get you to start acting decent to everyone?"  
  
"Nothing short of a miracle, I assure you."  
  
"We'll see about that. Listen, Draco, I'm not going to play around with you anymore." He pointed a finger at the blonde, something that made him scowl even more and shove Harry's hand away. He replaced the point, this time shoving his finger into Draco's chest. "I'm not going to take your rubbish anymore, either."  
  
Draco grit his teeth and shoved Harry's hand away a second time. "Shut up, Potter. Don't touch me, you don't have the right."  
  
"No, you shut up!" Harry snapped back. "I'm sick of this! I'm sick of putting up with you all the time. I don't care what sort of defense mechanism or whatever it is for you, I'm not going to put up with it!"  
  
"Defense..what? Shut up, Potter." Draco's white fingers curled around the front of Harry's night clothes and he shook him. "Shut up or I'll close that rotten mouth for you!"  
  
"Grow up!" The Gryffindor snapped back at him. "You're being a total prat! Do you even think about what you're doing? Everyone here is trying to give you a second chance but you keep throwing it back in their faces! Mrs. Weasley's trying so hard and you just give her a difficult time!"  
  
"I don't care what that muggle-loving disgrace wants!" He shoved Harry backwards, away from him.   
  
The Gryffindor recovered from his stumble easily and before Draco could turn and gather his things to leave, he took hold of his wrist. "This is your last chance, Malfoy! We're your last chance! You can either stop and change things here, or you can continue what you're doing and end up you know where!"  
  
When Draco whipped around to face Harry it was with his fist raised. He didn't give the Slytherin a chance to swing though. Instead, he ducked his head and shoved him backwards onto to couch. "This is your last chance!" He repeated. "You can either straighten up or spend the rest of your life arguing with yourself and relying on some muggle-loving disgrace to wipe the drool off your chin!"  
  
Draco tried to get to his feet again, but Harry pushed him back into the sofa. "We're not trying to change you, or take you away from your parents or anything like that." The Gryffindor informed him, his voice lowering some what. He backed away, letting his hands fall to his sides. Maybe it wouldn't be so threatening this way. "I'm not asking to run off and marry a muggle born and live happily ever after or anything like that! Just because you turn your back on the future your father and mother let out for you doesn't mean we all have to be friends. There isn't just good and evil, Draco. The sides aren't just Harry Potter and Voldemort. There's so much more to everything than that! I just want you to suck it up and give yourself a chance. Since it's about you and your future I'm assuming it's something you'd care about! Just cut out the rubbish and realize that everyone here just wants to help you!"  
  
The blonde took in a deep breath and straightened slightly in his seat, smoothing out his shirt and his hair, but he didn't try to get up and leave again. Harry's shoulders slumped as all of the anger drained out of him as quickly as it had come. "Sorry." He said after a minute. "I'm just really tired." He fell back into the arm chair he'd occupied earlier and glanced out a window. "I–"  
  
"Couldn't sleep." Draco finished, his voice crisp and confident although he had collected his tea and glared down at it, lifting his knees to his chest. "I kept dreaming about my mother."   
  
Harry stared at Draco as he spoke. What kind of admission was this? Had his little tirade actually managed to leak through all the walls the other had built around himself? Had he made some sense after all? He didn't say anything, listening to the other as he spoke.   
  
"Professor Snape took me to Azkaban to see them. I only saw my mother. She was a complete mess, I almost even didn't recognize her. When I was little, every night she used to read me a story and I would listen. For as long as I could keep my eyes open I'd watch her. My mother was so beautiful. I memorized every line of her face. But when I went to Azkaban I didn't even know it was her."   
  
As he listened, Harry felt the familiar pangs of sadness settle in his gut. He had known that Snape had taken Draco somewhere but no one, not even Hermione, had expected where they had went would turn out to be anything like this.  
  
"I don't want to end up like that, Potter, really. I've thought about all of this already and I've made my decision a long time ago, before you even showed up. No one is going to choose my fate for me. How I end up will only be because that's what I wanted."  
  
Harry wasn't exactly sure what to say to any of that once Draco had finished. He sat in silence with the other boy, watching the Slytherin's face as he watched his tea, blew on the hot surface, and then took a sip. Finally, he felt a relieved smile creep over his face, and only then did Harry think it was okay to speak. "I'm really glad, Draco," he admitted. "I'm really glad to hear that."  
  
****  
  
"Rabastan! Where are you?" Rodolphus sang as he pranced down the corridor, peeking behind one door and then the other in a long hallway of many, many doors. "A-ha!" He announced yanking open the door to his bedroom. Two lumps in the sheets of his bed attested to two bodies lying beneath them.  
  
Bellatrix Lestrange gave an exasperated sigh and twisted in the blankets, pulling them up to cover her naked body as she faced her husband. "Rodolphus, what in the world are you doing? Shut up, you're making my head ache."  
  
"Rabastan!" Rodolphus exclaimed, and the second form groggily lifted his head. He looked at his brother and rolled his eyes, flopping back down onto the bed. Rabastan's arm, much more thick and muscled than Rodolphus', laced around Bellatrix's waist and pulled her snugly against him. Rodolphus stared. "What are you doing naked with my wife in my bed?"  
  
With a grin that wrinkled the bridge of her nose, Bellatrix smiled and lifted a hand to comb through her wild black hair. "Don't worry, heart of my heart," She said, her voice thick with sarcasm. "Rabastan was just helping me massage a knot out of my back."  
  
"But why naked?" Rodolphus wormed out of his shoes and untucked his shirt before crawling up onto the foot of the bed with them.  
  
"It was a really deep knot." Rabastan replied and smirked, leaning forward to nibble a spot on Bellatrix' neck, already red with love bites. The woman laughed softly and twisted in his arms to face him. Pushing him onto his back, she perched on top of his body and leaned forward to kiss him.  
  
"Hey!" Rodolphus glared, crawling up on the bed to glance between them. "This doesn't look like a massage to me. Rabastan if you're doing anything with my precious wife I'll–"  
  
The kiss broke and Rabastan interrupted his brother in a dull tone. "Relax, Roddie, she's just helping me get something stuck in my teeth."  
  
"Fine." He said suspiciously and slowly curled his legs beneath them, still watching them. "But don't call me that. You know I hate it when you call me that."  
  
"Sorry." Rabastan replied, watching Bellatrix as she sat up on top of him. She ran her fingers up through her hair, tossing it down her back before lowering a hand to one of Rabastan's hips.   
  
Her husband's brother was nothing like her husband now, but so much more like her husband before. He was muscled and strong, powerful and devious and down right dirty. She fidgeted slightly on him beneath the sheets, before a pleased smile curled Rabastan's lips. "Merlin." He groaned as Bellatrix sneered, rocking forward slightly on his body.  
  
Rodolphus stared at them as if they were doing something truly queer and then laid on his stomach to watch. He had to make sure they didn't do anything too curious. He knew his brother had always been secretly envious of his wife. "I've decided." He announced to them.  
  
"What...have you decided on, heart of my heart?" Bellatrix asked, a bit breathy.  
  
"Harry Potter," He announced, a slow smile forming on his face. He rolled onto his back to look at the ceiling. His wife and his brother weren't doing anything out of the ordinary, he didn't have anything to worry about. "I saw him today-I've decided I'm going to possess him."  
  
"That's nice." Bellatrix gasped and then moaned.  
  
Rodolphus glanced at her only briefly. "When I get my hands on him I'm going to take him away with me. I'll lock him away somewhere private and perfect and keep him there just for me."   
  
Something excited was rising inRodolphus' voice that was much akin to his brother's tone as Bellatrix rocked back and forth on top of him. Rabastan said, "that's great news, brother. Hey, Rodolphus–" His voice broke off as he clenched his teeth, his hand on Bellatrix' thigh squeezing tightly. "I think Bellatrix and I are going to take a nap. If you're going to stay awake can you go somewhere else so we can get a decent rest?"  
  
"Huh?" Rodolphus looked over at them and then smiled. "Oh. Okay, sure." He rolled out of the bed then and without any further hesitation, slipped from the room closing the door. They often wanted to take naps together and kick him out of the room. He heard his wife laugh when the door closed and called back. "Have a good night, darling wife!" Before he slid further down the hall.  
  
He really didn't mind leaving them alone. Not when he had so much on his mind that he'd rather think about privately. Most importantly, he wanted to think about Harry Potter. As he haunted the hallways, his fingers trailing along the wood, he recalled that afternoon in his mind.  
  
He hadn't expected to step out of Madam Malkin's and find Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy standing right in front of him. The former he knew, of course by the scar, and the latter because he was the spitting image of his dear, old father. Rodolphus hated Lucius Malfoy. He hated the way Lucius had always pushed him around. He hated the way Lucius had looked at his darling wife and how his darling wife had looked at him. He shook the memory of the pompous, blonde rat from his memory and replaced it with the soft image of the two boys he'd met in the Alley this afternoon.  
  
Most importantly Harry Potter.  
  
He had looked so sweet and tender. Completely untouched, innocent. He wanted to be the one to touch him. To spoil him. His smile was creeping up over his face again and he grinned as he leaned back against the wall in the hallway and slid to a crouch. His thin skeleton fingers, swollen only by knots of knuckles, laced in front of his mouth to conceal his glee. If he cold get Harry Potter, if he could own him, there were so many things he would want to do.  
  
He wanted to make Harry Potter scream. He wanted to make Harry Potter wail and writhe and sweat and cry. He wanted Harry Potter to break down and sob. But the most important need, the most erotic desire, the one, singular goal that moved him the most, was the want to make Harry Potter bleed.  
  
He wanted Harry Potter to bleed an ocean of blood. 


	7. Chapter Seven: Headlines

Chapter Seven: Headlines  
  
Nearly a week after the fateful trip to Diagon Alley, mornings at Grimmauld place were still rather gloomy. Breakfast was somber as Ron, Hermione, and Harry gathered around the table for cold cereal, as it seemed no one else except them, were in the house. As the boys ate, and in between her own spoonfuls, Hermione read from the front page of the Daily Prophet.   
  
There had been chaos after the attack, investigations and repair and every day something new and terrible was discovered, usually a person. "In total, the body count rose to seventeen, twelve of which were injured, three critically, and two dead. Although Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic in London, expressed shock and outrage at the Death Eater attack, suspicions have arisen that the Ministry may have known the aggression was coming, even days in advance. When asked to comment, Fudge declined." She finished reading with a frustrated whine and tossed the paper onto the table.  
  
It was picked up by a slender, white hand. Draco, fully dressed for the day ahead in slacks and a button down shirt, sat casually in his spot at the head of the table. It was a bit of a shock for Ron and Hermione, who knew nothing of the conversation Harry and Draco had had many nights ago in the drawing room. Ever since then, Draco had come to join them for every meal. Harry just smiled and slid the cereal box towards the blonde.  
  
"Total of Seventeen Casualties in Diagon Alley Death Eater Raid" He read the headline aloud and smirked, filling his bowl absently as his eyes darted over the article beneath the bold script and the picture of the Dark Mark glittering in the sky over Gringotts Bank. It was still there, to this day!  
  
"What are you smiling about?" Ron asked as he stabbed his cereal angrily. It was the only outlet for his upset with this whole 'let's be nice to Malfoy' kick that Hermione and now Harry were suddenly on. "You wouldn't know anything about that would you?" He jabbed the utensil in his hand at Draco, splashing milk.  
  
Hermione's nose wrinkled and she frowned. "Ron, please, you're making a mess."  
  
Draco smiled serenely as he finished the article and folded the paper back up, setting it down on the table. Milk was added to his cereal as he asked, "you mean, Weasley, do I know anything about it because my parents are Death Eaters?"  
  
"Yeah, that's basically what I'm asking." Ron replied acidly, his eyes narrowed. "If you're having such a difficult time keeping up I can write everything out for you."  
  
"Honestly," Draco replied with a roll of his eyes as he hooked an arm over the back of his chair and leaned into it. "I knew all about the attack months and months before. In fact, I have a calendar hanging up on the roof of my trunk counting off all the days until the big hoorah!" He made a small, explosive gesture with his fingers. "It's the day marked with the evil, sharp toothed smiley-face."  
  
Harry made a slightly disturbed face at this and glanced at Hermione, laughing nervously. He was kidding right?  
  
"So funny I forgot to laugh." Ron complained, partly to spite Harry, and shoved his mouth full of breakfast. "I wonder where my mum went." He muttered, glaring down into his bowl as he chewed. If his mother was here, she wouldn't let Malfoy walk around smiling about a Death Eater attack. Or, at the very least, she'd give him some work to do so he wouldn't have to look at Draco's rat face all morning.  
  
"There's a meeting for the Order today," Draco informed him in a bored tone before he started on his cereal. The look of distaste he got whenever he ate anything at this table had diminished somewhat. Of course, it was pretty difficult to screw up cereal. He would have only himself to blame. "It's a little strange, isn't it? That they go everywhere else to hold their stupid meetings. Isn't this place supposed to be the H.Q.?"  
  
"Oh, right!" Ron seethed anew. It seemed no matter what Draco said or did it brought him one step closer, teetering over the edge into outrage. "And how would you know that they're having a meeting, Malfoy? Huh? What are you, skulking around this house eavesdropping on everyone's conversations? Spying on them? Collecting information for your hooded little friends?"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, collecting her cereal bowl and bringing it to the sink to pour the milk out. She couldn't sit here and watch Ron make a fool out of himself.  
  
"I read it on the note she left stuck to your door, nimrod." The blonde replied blandly. "Didn't you see it, Weasel?"  
  
Harry couldn't help himself anymore. At his best friends disgusting lack of detail recognition, he laughed out loud, clapping his hand over his mouth to stop himself when Ron glared at him.  
  
"What's so bloody funny, Harry? You think he's pretty funny huh?" Ron's voice was lifting as he got to his feet. Harry's brows rose slightly as his friend turned on him. "Which part was it? That I'm a nimrod or a weasel? Which part was funniest to you?"  
  
"I wasn't laughing at that, Ron." Harry replied a bit desperately. Ron was really angry. So angry, his face was starting to change colors. This was the last thing he needed, for Ron to be upset with him.  
  
"Right. Sure. Of course not." Ron growled, slamming his hands down on the table. "You and your new chum are really pissing me off!"  
  
Harry's brows furrowed, his gaze narrowing to tiny slivers of green as Ron spoke. "What's the big idea! I can't even laugh anymore without you thinking I'm turning on you! It's not my fault you did something stupid so stop trying to take it out on me!"  
  
"Uh oh." Draco looked from one boy to the other, both of them on their feet with their fists at their sides. "It looks like trouble's brewing in paradise!"  
  
"Shut up, Malfoy!" Both Gryffindors shouted at Draco and then glanced at each other in surprise. The fact that they both shared the same desire to yell at the mouthy blonde soothed their ruffled injustice and slowly the two boys reclaimed their seats.  
  
"Whatever." Ron said briskly, looking away with a noncommital wave of his hand.  
  
"Fine." Harry muttered and lifted his bowl to drink his milk.  
  
"Boys!" Hermione shook her head as she left the kitchen.  
  
Draco ate his cereal.  
  
****  
  
Dear Draco,  
  
Your mother and father would first like to express our fondest, most sincere yule time wishes to you during the holiday season. Your mother is especially disappointed that you have chosen not to return home during your winter break and I have decided to cheer her up with a vacation to the Alps. You know your mother has always enjoyed mountains, especially during a snow storm. However, please pay close attention to your mail as you know your mother cannot let an opportunity to shower you with gifts pass. Be sure to respond to her love with a lengthy letter of thanks.  
  
In regards to the other matters in your letter that you labeled to be most 'pressing', I must say that I am disappointed. Away from my guidance, your plebeian behavior astounds and disgusts me. You are the arms and legs of the Malfoy family every moment you are away from our home, an ambassador, if you will, and even if you aren't aware, there are others who are watching you as an example on how to conduct themselves. You must lead them appropriately in ways that will endear and sway them to your side. I know this is a difficult concept for you to grasp and maneuver so I will spell it out plainly for you so that you can understand.  
  
As I have told you, I will tell you again, and as many times as it is necessary for you to finally comprehend. No matter what your personal feelings may be, it is not wise to appear so adverse to Harry Potter. He is, after all, regarded as the savior of wizard kind, he who saved us all from the shackles of the Dark Lord.   
  
I am sure you remember the speech I gave you repeatedly on the importance of appearances. I will stress this again as once more I see you've left the 's' off of that all important word. It is okay to sneer in private if in public you wear a smile. Do you understand this? I have never thought of you as a dull boy.  
  
Regarding the Chamber of Secrets, the petrification of muggle born and squibs, the heir of Slytherin: keep your head down. These are matters that do not involve you. As my son, you are separate from all of these things. The Chamber of Secrets is nothing but a legend. Whatever is happening to those children, although truly tragic, is none of your concern. Steer clear of this situation, do not relate to it or stick out because of it.  
  
Instead, I suggest you use this opportunity to concentrate on your studies. Although I've been generous enough to give you a racing broom this term, if you cannot improve your grades I will be forced to take it away. I don't believe a Seeker can play games without a broom.  
  
Work hard. Knowing your curious nature this will be difficult. Rest assured, however, that some day, I will tell you everything.  
  
Your father,  
  
Lucius  
  
****  
  
After the members of the Order that stayed at Grimmauld Place over the summer returned home from their meeting, things began to change. None of the children were allowed outside unattended, and even then, not more than a few feet from the house. During the day, but especially at night, there were many more visitors. Because they stayed all night or all day long, Harry surmised they were guards although they moved and changed guarding points too erratically for him to be sure.  
  
Like always, it was difficult to glean any information from any of Grimmauld's guests about just what had been discussed at the meeting, what had happened and decided on, that things at the house had changed so rapidly.  
  
For weeks the front page of the Prophet was a colorful array of terrible stories. A terrible cycle of Death Eater attacks on wizarding communities, buildings, and on authorities, counting the body toll, repair, and the next attack. It went on and on, day in and day out, and well into the balmy, days of August.   
  
Fear and terror was widespread as those who had survived Voldemort's first reign of power recalled similar events and details. Terrible murders and terrible violence they had thought long since over and healed, were returning to them with full bloody force. For those that had been born since Voldemort's defeat, the terrors were new. Terrible nightmares and stories brought into reality. Their questions were asked, fears expressed, with round, wide eyes and trembling fingers and answered in the same way.  
  
It was terrible to the point that Harry could no longer stand to read the paper. He didn't want to hear about how people were suffering, living in fear. Most importantly, he avoided the editorials. At least every day one or two people wrote to the editor complaining about him. Where was Harry Potter? They asked, as if they expected him to swoop in and save them all.  
  
At breakfast one morning when Mr. Weasley sat down to join them, he had something to say. Mrs. Weasley had been nervous all morning. She'd bustled about in the kitchen and rambled at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco about school and N.E.W.T.S, which they would have next year, before she left, without eating anything, to go back upstairs. "Molly and I are going to go into London today," Arthur explained as he cut up a banana, dropping round slices on top of his cereal. "Your sister's coming back a bit early from her trip because of everything that's been going on. Last night, the town she was staying in was attacked by Death Eaters."  
  
"What?" Harry couldn't hide the alarm from his voice. Hermione gasped out loud, slapping her hands over her mouth. She glanced nervously at Ron who had stopped reading the comics in the Prophet and was now staring at his father.  
  
"Don't worry, don't worry," Arthur added quickly with a gentling motion of his hands, patting down the tense air. "She's okay, she wasn't hurt, but still, she's coming home."  
  
"Well I'd say!" Ron finally announced, his eyes narrowing as he flipped the paper over to the front page. Today, the Death Eaters had moved into muggle cities. That meant the place this morning's article was talking about was probably the same American muggle city that his sister had gone to. "I knew she shouldn't have gone. I had a bad feeling about it."  
  
"Well, your mother and I are going to collect her today. We'll be gone for a while, the four of you should stay here. Your mother wants you to start cleaning your bedrooms, start getting ready for school. If you need anything, Lupin and Professor Snape are in the basement, but try not to bother them."  
  
No one really needed to ask why Professor Snape and Lupin were in the basement at this particular moment. The full moon had been marked in red on every calendar and was swiftly approaching.  
  
"Can't we go with you?" Ron asked, turning towards his father with an intense look in his eyes. Ginny was the only other Weasley child left besides himself, and the only girl in their family as well. He wanted to be there when she arrived. He had to make sure she was well taken care of. He had to make sure she really wasn't hurt. "Or I can at least?"  
  
"Eh..." Mr. Weasley looked at his son to his breakfast and back again. "I'll talk to your mother, Ron, but you know how she can be at times like this."  
  
"I'm going." Ron announced in a firm tone and got up, tossing his bowl into the sink and leaving the kitchen. "I'll go get ready right now!" There was no way, Harry knew as he watched Ron dart up the stairs, that he was going to get left behind.  
  
"When will you be back?" Draco asked, watching Mr. Weasley over the lip of his tea cup. He had been so quiet up until that point, Harry had forgotten that Draco was even there this morning.  
  
"What? Uh..." Arthur looked a little confused as he addressed Draco's question. The blonde had been staying there for over two months now and this was the first thing he'd ever said to him. "Well, by dinner time for sure. Although maybe," And here he looked towards Hermione and Harry "maybe the two of you can make something for dinner? I'm sure Molly–"  
  
"Of course." Hermione interjected. "Don't worry, Mr. Weasley, Harry and I will take care of everything." Mrs. Weasley should be able to spend time with her daughter instead of losing herself in the kitchen making dinner for them.  
  
Arthur smiled as he finished his cereal and prepared to leave the kitchen, picking up the Prophet since everyone seemed to be done with it. "Thank you, Hermione. We really appreciate this." She smiled at him. "I'll see you later," addressing the group as a whole, Mr. Weasley left the kitchen to collect his wife and son.  
  
Although Harry and Hermione were able to finish their breakfasts in time to see the three family members off to collect the fourth, Draco alone seemed to possess the ability to make the same cup of tea last until the trio of red hair had completely driven away.   
  
When the two Gryffindors sat down at the kitchen table with a cook book, Draco excused himself, leaving his dishes on the table before disappearing upstairs.  
  
"He's acting weird, isn't he?" Hermione asked, looking from over the top of the book to her friend. "He's hardly snarked at anyone since this whole Death Eater thing."  
  
In return, Harry blinked and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, Hermione. He's probably just trying to not be involved. It would be too easy for people to jump to conclusions about him if he acted either too happy or two upset by everything in the paper. Especially with Ron, you know how he is. He's just waiting for an opportunity to catch Draco in the act of doing something he shouldn't."  
  
"He still thinks Draco's a cohort of the Dark Lord, huh?" Hermione rolled her eyes with a sigh and turned the page. "I don't know where he gets his ammunition from. I think Draco's making a genuine effort, more or less, to settle in."  
  
Harry thought about that, looking over at Hermione with a warm smile. He was glad she was on his side with the whole Malfoy situation. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to stand it if everyone in the Prophet, plus his two best friends, were against him. "I think he is too. He told me one night that he was ready to make a change. If he was ever going to be a Death Eater, I don't think that's what he'll choose now."  
  
"Well I don't see how he could." Hermione agreed before a curious knit tugged on her brows. "What do you mean he told you? When was this?"  
  
"Weeks ago." Harry brushed it off.  
  
"Well where were Ron and I?" How long had Harry been sneaking off doing important things like this without them? Ron's opinion of Draco may have been seriously altered if he had been there for the conversation Harry was referring to.  
  
Harry smirked, folding his fingers together and resting his chin on them. "Snogging."  
  
Hermione's eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping over her cheeks as she looked for salvation in the pages of the book. "Oh," She said quickly.  
  
Thankfully, Hermione was spared from any furthering of the conversation as Draco walked past them towards the drawing room. What made it peculiar was the fact that he was wearing his robes, like he was planning on going out somewhere. The two friends looked at each other, eyebrows raised, before they set the book down and followed him.  
  
"Hey Draco!" Harry called, and the blonde paused in the doorway to the drawing room looking back at them. "Where are you going?"  
  
"No where." He replied with a cat-like smile before disappearing into the room.  
  
"Hey! Hey, hey!" Naturally they followed, Hermione already scolding. "We're not allowed to go anywhere, Draco, you can't just–" But as soon as they poked their head into the drawing room it was already too late. The flames in the large, monstrous fireplace were already burning bright emerald, Draco among them.  
  
"Malfoy!" Harry glared.  
  
"Diagon Alley!" Draco replied with a smirk and in an instant he was gone.  
  
****  
  
Lucius Malfoy had been more than a bit startled to have anyone come bursting into his cell at this time of day in Azkaban Fortress. Let alone four someones. It was true he was monitored, he knew he had to be, but really the only time someone actually came into his cell was very early in the morning, which had already happened, and very late at night, which was still hours and hours away!   
  
The proud man lifted his head as his room was suddenly flooded by a handful of people. "Lucius Malfoy," a strangely familiar voice said although he wasn't able to put his finger on just who it was.  
  
"W-what?" He asked blurrily, his throat and lips dry. He couldn't make out just who his visitors were, their shapes were too dark. They melted in perfectly with the shadows around him. As they came closer and laced their arms through his, hefting him to his feet, he began to understand.   
  
A hand, the only bit of skin he could make out on the cloaked figures, grabbed his wrist and pushed the sleeves of his robes up over his forearm revealing the snake entwined skull on his pale skin, surrounded by poorly healing cuts and gouges. "My, my," the one that was holding his wrist examined the brand, scraping a finger nail over the abused skin. "Trying to tear it off are you, Lucius?"  
  
The blonde winced, trying to jerk his arm away but the other held him firmly, tearing up already formed scabs. "You should know it's useless by now to free yourself from your destiny." Lucius couldn't help but whimper in pain as a scab was pulled off, bits of freshly formed skin with it. The figure that held him laughed when blood began to well up and drip slowly towards the ground. "It's him." He announced and tossed Lucius arm down. Turning, the figures began to file out, the one who had spoke gesturing. "Bring him."  
  
"What? No!" Lucius' eyes went wide and he pushed his heels into the slick, stone floor. "I don't want to go! You can't make me go, please! I'm useless! I'm completely useless to Him now!" He made futile attempts to wriggle away, to grab the frame of his cell door as he was pulled out of it. "I'm completely useless!"  
  
"You always were." The lead Death Eater snarled and lifted his wand, jabbing it against Lucius' forehead. He hardly had time to realize what was going on before a spell was cast. "Stupefy!" When their captive's body jerked with the force of the point black spell and then slumped unconscious, he was dragged through the smokey, rubble-cluttered hallways of Azkaban Fortress.  
  
When Lucius Malfoy woke again it was with a searing pain in his arm so intense he wouldn't be surprised if all of his flesh had been completely torn off the bone. His holler, as he clutched his branded arm to his chest, accompanied with his writing in the dirt brought many smiles and a few chuckles from the ring of black cloaked figures that circled him. "Your pathetic, worm-like wiggling suits you well, Lucius."  
  
The blonde groaned as the pain persisted for seconds longer before slowly abating to a dull ache. His fingers twitching against his stomach, he curled up into a ball on the ground. His tears mingled with tortured sweat that ran in rivulets down his face and into his clothes. "M-My Lord.." He heard himself stammer as he slowly unfolded himself, pushing himself up.  
  
Lucius got only as far as his hands and knees before Voldemort made a gesture with his fingers. From behind, a foot caught the back of Lucius' head, pushing him back down into the dirt, a heel grinding into his neck.   
  
"You've betrayed me for the last time, Lucius."  
  
Lucius felt the foot on the back of his head draw back as he was once again grabbed beneath the arms. His body was twisted upwards onto his knees, boots pressing his calves into the ground. A hand curled through his blonde hair to hold his head steady.  
  
"You know well the punishment for those who betray me. You've seen it many times." From the circle, Lucius watched with mind-splitting horror as Voldemort stepped forward. His scaly, gray hand with its yellow nails curled tightly around his wand.  
  
Dread welled up in the back of his throat but when Lucius tried to even fidget, the hold the other Death Eater's had on him tightened. Trembling, the reason the sun rose every morning heard himself moan out a sob. "Please don't kill me! Please don't kill me." He begged. "I have been loyal to you! To the very end I've been loyal. I've served you for years! For over half my life I've loyally served you my lord! I've done everything you've ever asked of me!"  
  
"You've done everything I've ever asked of you." Voldemort repeated and although his voice was soft and patient, Lucius knew otherwise. "You haven't done anything I've asked you to, Lucius. You've made many sorrowful attempts but every one of them have failed pathetically. Wormtail is more suiting a servant to me than you are."  
  
"That's not true!" Lucius' eyes were round with fear as Voldemort's wand was lifted.  
  
"Are you saying that I'm lying?"   
  
The conversation had taken a dangerous turn and Lucius tried to shake his head 'no' but whoever was holding his hair cruelly forced him to nod. "No!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, despite the gesture his head was making. "My lord, I would never!"  
  
He could feel the tip of Voldemort's wand, burning hot and inches from his skin as it moved slowly over his face. "You've tried to rid yourself of me." The Dark Lord continued. "After Potter's interference you turned your back on me, like many of the other cowards, few of which are in our presence now. "  
  
"I had good reason, my lord! To prepare the way for your return!"  
  
"I have heard all of this before, Lucius. By now the excuse has worn thin." Voldemort's wand was drawn back. From his stretched position all Lucius could see of it was the glowing red end as it swam upwards through the darkness.  
  
"I-I-I-" He stammered, his mind whirring through all the possibilities of things he could say to placate his master's wand.  
  
"Avada K-" when the cold whisper of the spell began, Lucius shouted the very last option that his mind had settled on. Although it was feeble, it was the most promising.  
  
"My son!" He hollered out loud, his voice breaking with desperation. He closed his eyes, waiting for the Dark Lord's previous spell to be finished, to strike him in the chest and to kill him.  
  
But it never came.  
  
"Your son?" Voldemort asked, his wand frozen in mid spell, crackling venomously with poisonous magic.  
  
"My son!" Lucius said again, this time dread replaced by relief. "Yes my son! My little boy Draco!" Overjoyed at the possibility of having spared his own life, he babbled, "Yes! I've been raising him for you, My Lord! To be your tool. Since he was a child I have instructed him carefully, taught him necessities, so that some day, so that today! So that today he could join your side. I've crafted him as the perfect weapon for you, My Lord!"  
  
"Is that a fact?"   
  
Someone that was holding Lucius up didn't seem to take too kindly to this sudden turn of conversation. The hand in his hair tightened to the point that it began to tear. Lucius' eyes turned wet, but he forced himself not to look away from Voldemort.  
  
"Yes, My Lord!" Lucius whimpered. "He will serve you! He will serve you well! It is the finest gift that I could ever give you. My one and only son. My own flesh and blood."  
  
Voldemort seemed to be weighing this as he looked down at the trembling, tortured pureblood at his feet. After what seemed like an eternity, he stepped away, waving his hand at the knot of Death Eaters responsible for holding Lucius down. "Release him. Take care of him, give him a wand, but keep careful watch. He isn't free of his nightmares yet."  
  
"Thank you, My Lord!" Lucius cried as he was tossed forward onto the ground by those that had been holding him. He was more than happy to press his face into the dirt as the Dark Lord left the ring of his followers. "Thank you! Thank you!"  
  
"Let us hope your son isn't nearly as big a disappointment as you are, Lucius."  
  
****  
  
Draco was rather proud of himself by the time he returned to 12 Grimmauld Place. Even though it was well after dinner time, he didn't seem concerned at the possibility that others had been worried about him. He was carrying several bags with him as he stepped out of the flames of the drawing room fireplace and into the hands of a room full of very angry witches and wizards. Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Remus Lupin, Professor Snape, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny Weasley had all gathered, and were waiting for him.  
  
"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!" Shrieked Mrs. Weasley, already on her feet and marching towards him. "DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG WE'VE BEEN SITTING HERE WORRYING ABOUT YOU? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN ATTACKED! WORSE YET, KILLED! BUT DID YOU EVEN STOP TO THINK ABOUT THAT BEFORE RUNNING OFF LIKE ONE OF MY IDIOT SONS?"  
  
"Hey!" Ron protested but was quickly quelled when his mother cast him a sharp look.  
  
Mrs. Weasley had noted the way that Draco's face had moved from shock, to anger, to rage as she yelled at him but before he got a chance to open his mouth, Snape lifted a pale hand, gesturing to him. "Not wise, Mister Malfoy."  
  
Draco was quiet for a moment, glaring at them before he held up his bags. "I needed to get my school things!" He announced in a biting tone. "It's none of your business where I go anyway! It's not like you're my parents that you can order me around! You disgusting, vi-"  
  
"Malfoy!" Ginny interjected, already getting to her feet. "Don't you say another word about my mother or I'll end you!"  
  
Draco glanced over at her in shock, scoffed, but at the same time looked a little nervous as he settled down. He'd never seen such murderous intent from the littlest Weasley before. "Like you could, really!" He huffed.  
  
"You shouldn't have left like that." Harry protested, although he remained in his seat. "I told you you shouldn't leave but you did anyway."  
  
"Like I care what you'd–" Draco let his voice trail off. There was something odd in the air, past the furious worry of him having disappeared for an entire day. It was as if something else had happened but no one wanted to say it. It made his stomach twist. "What? What happened?"  
  
Lupin sighed and pushed himself up wearily from his chair. He held out a folded copy of the Evening Prophet towards him. Draco set his bags of school things down and took it from him, brows furrowed. "What?"  
  
"Read the front page." Mr. Weasley suggested.  
  
Draco turned the paper over to the headline and instantly felt all of the blood drain from his face. He had to read it again just to be sure it said what he thought it did, his fingers shaking as they gripped the paper's edge. Then he just stared at it, reading the headline over and over, his mouth moving silently. His head buzzed, filled with dizzy thoughts. Finally, aloud, he said "Azkaban Fortress Raided, Lucius Malfoy At Large."  
  
-----------------  
  
**Authors Note**  
  
I wanted to take the time now, about halfway through "Sold!" to say a few thanks. First of all, I want to publically recognize my favorite Beta, Choco, who always takes care of me and encourages me to write the next chapter.  
  
Of course, I also wanted to thank all of you who have replied to my paultry attempt at fan fiction. This is the first chapter fic I've ever officially posted on a site like this and to have all of your support really means a lot to me!  
  
Please continue to support me and read my fic until the very end! Someday, someday I swear there will be some H/D (like, the next chapter for sure) 


	8. Chapter Eight: The Hogwarts Express

Chapter Eight  
  
Draco's reaction to the news about his father's escape was nothing like Harry had ever expected, no matter how many times he'd stuck up for his former enemy and no matter how many times he claimed that Draco had changed. The blonde had actually looked frightened, became more and more so the further he read. When he had finished, he shoved the paper back at Remus, gathered his things, and left the room without a word to anyone.  
  
"You should sit down and have something to eat," Mrs. Weasley offered, having calmed down considerably since Draco's initial return. She followed him a few steps into the hall, even.  
  
"I'll pass." Draco replied in a dead tone and went straight to his room, slamming his door closed. The noise was cue for Mrs. Black to begin her wailing.  
  
"He's probably going up there to throw a party." Ron muttered, wincing slightly as the cursing and screaming began.  
  
"Shut up, Ron!" Harry snapped at his best friend and left after Draco. He jogged out of the drawing room and up the stairs. "You too, you stupid painting!" He glared at Mrs. Black as he passed.  
  
"What's his problem?" Ginny asked a bit skeptically, her hands against her ears as she joined her brother's side. She didn't turn to Ron for an answer though, his were always irrational anyway. Hermione was a better candidate for information, unfortunately for Ron.  
  
"Draco's been," Hermione fiddled with a way to word just what 'Harry's problem' was. To come out and say it sounded so unbelievable. "Well Harry and I have been working on him a lot lately to, you know, make him think about his future."  
  
"Oh I see." Ginny didn't looked very convinced. "You know, I really don't think that's going to work. People don't just turn against their breeding like that, Hermione."   
  
By now, to the relief of everyone in Grimmauld Place, Mr. Weasley and Professor Snape had finished stunning the portraits into silence. Ginny lowered her hands from her ears and looked towards Ron. "What about you? What do you think about all of this?"  
  
"Rubbish." Ron waved his hand 'no' quickly, frowning.  
  
"Yeah, I agree. For once."  
  
"But Ginny," Hermione began.  
  
The red head girl smiled at her friend. "It's alright, Hermione, don't worry about it. Look, we can agree to disagree. You saw how Malfoy was last year. He promised retribution for his stupid father. People just don't say things like that and then forget about them the next day." She didn't really want to talk about Draco anymore. After wondering where he went and then watching him stare stupidly at the Prophet before storming out, she'd filled her quota of Malfoy time for the day.  
  
"It's been more than a day, Ginny."  
  
"Well, whatever. You know what I mean. I wouldn't trust him. I don't trust him."  
  
Hermione sighed, looking between brother and sister with disappointment. "I can understand this lummox not giving him a chance," She gestured to Ron who only looked slightly offended, "but you're a girl, Ginny, you should have some sense!"  
  
"I do have sense!" Ginny protested, frowning a bit. "That's why I'm saying you shouldn't trust him!"  
  
"The point is this," Hermione continued. If Ginny took Ron's side it would be two on two. Already a small rift was forming between them, but this could tear it wider. "If he's going to have any chance at all, we have to give it to him. We have to give him the opportunity to show us he can become a better person."  
  
"I don't care what happens to Malfoy. That whole family is rotten, I don't know how many times I've heard that from you and even Harry! If you ask me, you're the ones who don't have any sense." Ginny had placed her hands on her hips, her voice turning a bit sour as she was forced to continue on with this Draco nonsense.  
  
It was definitely a stalemate. The two girls looked at each other before Hermione shook her head, dejected.  
  
"The only way I'll even consider giving him a chance, Hermione," Ginny amended seeing her friends disheartened condition, "is if he apologized to my family for everything he's ever done to us. If he can do it sincerely then maybe I'll believe him."  
  
Hermione blanched slightly. Even now, after everything, that seemed impossible.  
  
**  
  
Upstairs, Harry knocked for the third time on Draco's door. "Let me in." He said again, talking to the wood. "Come on, Draco. Let's talk about this!"  
  
Inside his room, Draco rolled his eyes. Let's talk about this? What a perfectly perfect Potter thing to say. "Go away." He called to the door. "There isn't anything to talk about!" He told himself sternly. He returned to unpacking his Diagon Alley things, trying to fit them all into his trunk.  
  
"I'm coming in!" Harry announced.  
  
When Draco heard the door open he glared at the roof of his trunk, annoyed, and called "Wait! I'm naked!"  
  
The door slammed shut again.  
  
Draco smirked.  
  
When he had finished putting away all of his purchases and Harry was still knocking on the door, Draco gave up. He brushed his hands off on his pants and pulled the door open. On the other side, Harry looked agitated. His green eyes lashed over Draco's body before he said in an angry voice, "you weren't naked!"  
  
Draco smiled and moved away from the door, leaving it open, and invitation for the other to follow. Harry did step in, closing the door behind him. "Would it have been so terrible if I was?" He asked with a smile before he took a seat on the bed, leaning back against his hands.  
  
Harry glared at him when he said that, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. "I slammed the door didn't I?"  
  
Draco laughed out loud, shaking his head slowly. "That you did, Potty, that you did."  
  
"Look." Harry felt a little awkward standing in front of Draco while he laughed at him so he spoke up. "About your parents,"  
  
"What about them?" The blonde's mirth drifted away slowly as his smile ebbed.  
  
"Well, your father. What are you going to do?"  
  
"What am I going to do?" Draco's brows furrowed in puzzlement. The way he threw Harry's own question back at him made Harry feel stupid and the Gryffindor frowned. "I'm not going to do anything, what could I do?"  
  
"I don't know," Harry said slowly. "I just thought that, maybe..."  
  
Draco shook his head again. "Please. Potter, what did you expect? That I'd be beside myself with emotion?"  
  
"M-Maybe." The Gryffindor looked down at his feet with an awkward sigh.  
  
Draco looked away from him, glancing at the rectangle of moonlight cast on the wall next to him from his small window. "Fine, then." He said, coming to a decision. "I'll tell you that honestly I'm a bit nervous. Scared."  
  
Harry looked up at Draco as he said that, tilting his head to the side. He'd never heard Draco admit to being scared of anything before. If he ever imagined Draco would confide in him with what he was afraid of, his father being a part of it was something he'd never expect. Even Draco had been constantly protective about his own family. "What are you afraid of?"  
  
"Well. He's out, isn't he?" Slowly, Draco turned back to face him. Harry was a bit startled at how cold and edged his features were, gray eyes narrowed and sharp like knife blades, his mouth a serious line. "If he wants to, he'll be able to find me. He'll drag me back with him into his world. If that happens, well, we both know the outcome."  
  
Harry felt his heart sink. Draco had come such a long way from the vindictive prat Harry was used to. He ate with them, he made small talk with them, he hadn't even called anyone anything terrible, except for that almost slip up earlier that evening with Mrs. Weasley. It was so plain to him how much effort Draco was putting into everything, he was frustrated that more people didn't see it. It was frustrating that more people didn't see Draco in the Malfoy, struggling to break free.   
  
"You don't have to be a slave to that destiny." Harry insisted.  
  
"We've already been over this, Potter." Draco shook his head. "I am taking this as an opportunity to be a different person."  
  
"That's not what I mean!" Harry insisted, moving closer to him so he could look Draco in the face, without being obscured by evening shadows. He needed Draco to see that he was earnest. "You can fight against them. You can fight against your father even if he takes you back."  
  
"How stupidly noble of you to say." Draco droned, watching Harry carefully. "What would I have to fight for, Potter, hm? Really, it's time we're honest with each other. There isn't anything waiting for me here. The people in this house can barely stand me, even Professor Snape's gotten tired with putting up with me. This house, what it stands for, may be what I want but the pull of it isn't great enough for me to choose death over life for it."  
  
"You don't have any hope, is that what you're saying?" Harry asked, his voice softening as he lowered it.  
  
"I'll never be accepted here." He reiterated. "Maybe I should stop trying."  
  
"Don't say that!" Harry interjected and took Draco by the shoulders suddenly. "You should never stop trying. It's not going to be easy. There are decades of bad blood between your family and the other families. Your father's actions, the side he chose, that makes it a million times more difficult for you. But you can't give up."  
  
It was difficult for Draco not to make some scathing comment. It would be easier to just discourage Harry. At least then he might be spared this sugary rhetoric. "I can't." He said flatly.  
  
A nervous look swept over Harry's face, his sweaty fingers tightening over Draco's shoulders as his eyes searched the blonde's face. "I'll help you." He said finally.  
  
"You're going to help me? How do you plan to do that?" Draco began, lifting his hands to brush Harry's away from his shoulders. He was stopped as the Gryffindor swooped down on him, his grip tightening as he held Draco steady and shoved their mouths together.  
  
As far as kissing went, Harry Potter was pretty virginal. All that he knew on the subject he'd absorbed from television, when he was allowed to watch it, and last year with Cho Chang. His inexperience showed through as he kissed Draco now, awkwardly, sloppily, and nervous.   
  
Against his mouth, Draco's was cool and still, a fact which swiftly became distressing to the dark haired youth. One of Draco's hands wrapped around Harry's wrist, prying one hand off of his shoulder before he leaned back to break the kiss, turning his head to the side to wipe his mouth on his shoulder.  
  
"Potter!" Harry wasn't sure if he sounded angry or just flustered. "That was easily the most disgusting thing I've ever been on the receiving end of." Alright, that was anger.  
  
Harry's heart sank. It fell into his feet when Draco pushed him away completely. "I"m sorry," He said quietly, feeling completely humiliated.  
  
"Get out!" Draco snapped, pointing towards the door.  
  
"I'm sorry." Harry said again, mentally kicking himself. Was he crazy? What was he thinking? why had he done that stupid, stupid thing!.  
  
"Just get out!" He ordered and without another apology, Harry left the room, closing the door tightly behind him. So stupid!  
  
****  
  
Over the next few weeks, Hermione tried to determine just what had happened between Harry and Draco the evening that Lucius Malfoy had escaped from Azkaban, but neither boys were very forthcoming with an answer. It was obvious that something large had occurred. Harry and Draco took great care in avoiding each other. One or the other was always late for breakfast and lunch and more often than not, at dinner, if one was there the other had gone to bed early.  
  
About a week before they were scheduled to leave for Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley had gone on a trip alone to Diagon Alley to acquire the necessary items from the list that Harry, Ron, and Hermione hadn't been able to obtain before the attack.   
  
Afar as attacks went, after the raid on Azkaban and the escape of Lucius Malfoy, there had been little Dark Arts news to report. It seemed whatever the Death Eaters were trying to accomplish had been finished, or they had just put their plans on hold. As a whole, the wizarding community was a little distrustful of the sudden cessation of all attacks, but at the same time, secretly they dared to believe that maybe it was, in fact, all over.  
  
On the morning that all Hogwart's students were supposed to report to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Mrs. Weasley woke everyone up late. Even though 12 Grimmauld Place had been preparing for this day, the grand exodus, all of their planning didn't stand a chance against circumstance.  
  
"Arthur, why! Please tell me why you didn't wake me up if you knew I was still in bed! You knew how important this day is! You knew I was planning on getting everyone up early so for once we might actually be able to make this an orderly affair!" Mrs. Weasley was madly packing multiple lunches. If anyone in the house was an expert at this, it would be Mrs. Weasley, but she was having a difficult time of it now since the five lunches she made had to be especially large to make up for the breakfast the children wouldn't be getting. It didn't help Mrs. Weasley's temper, or the situation, that all the racket everyone made from getting ready in such a rush had woke up Mrs. Black. She wailed and screamed and cursed along with the other portraits in the hallway.  
  
"I"m sorry, Molly." Arthur had tried to give her a hand but had swiftly gotten in the way and chased out of the kitchen. He stood in the doorway now, watching her helplessly as she hurried to put everything together. "I thought there was time for a little sleeping in and then when I finally got that little toy car working–"  
  
"I don't care Arthur!" She turned towards him and pointed towards the hall. "Go make sure the children are getting ready! I swear, you and your muggle toys always get us into all sorts of trouble!"  
  
"Right away, Molly, right away." Mr. Weasley spared himself an upcoming lecture about responsibility versus games by slipping away eagerly to a chorus of 'filthy blood traitor, disgusting vermin, putrid disease' from Mrs. Black  
  
"Boys, how are we doing, are we almost ready?" Mr. Weasley asked, peeking his head into Harry and Ron's room.  
  
"Coming!" Both boys shouted. Ron was trying to brush his teeth and close his trunk at the same time. Harry was pulling on his jacket but not before Mr. Weasley could see that he'd put on his shirt inside out. "Can't you do something about those screaming paintings?" Ron asked before Mr. Weasley went to check on the girls.  
  
Hermione and Ginny were in much the same situation. Although their trunks were set against the wall outside of their room, Hermione was trying to straighten up their beds while Ginny searched for a brush, her hair wild and tangled, fresh from the pillow. "I packed it! I think I packed it, this really bites. I look like a scarecrow!"  
  
"Let me help you." Arthur said with a smile and spelled her hair straight and in place. At least he could do that right!  
  
Ginny, who had been a little startled, jumped slightly at the spell but then glanced at herself in the mirror. "Dad!" Mr. Weasley looked confused at her outrage. "I haven't worn my hair like this since I was eleven years old!"  
  
"I'm sorry, honey." Alright, maybe he couldn't even do that right. "I better get these trunks loaded into the car." He said and started to leave.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Weasley?" Hermione stopped him as she gathered up her hair in a pony tail. "Do you think you could do something about those screaming portraits?"  
  
He smiled tightly.  
  
Draco Malfoy was the only one who was ready. He brushed past Mr. Weasley, dragging his trunk behind him. The edge of his trunk thunked loudly on each and every stair. If everyone was going to make a bunch of noise, so was he. "And you shut up!" He hissed at the paintings as he moved past them.  
  
It took a great deal of effort and shouting but nearly on time, Mr. And Mrs. Weasley had Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Draco piled into the back of the car, each with a brown sack lunch in their laps. The car was full, even for a charmed Ministry vehicle.  
  
Platform Nine and Three Quarters wasn't its usual crowded bustle of students, their parents, and luggage when they arrived, however. As everyone stepped through the barrier and onto the platform they were greeted by a slightly depressing sight. Only small handfuls of people had gathered and most of them were students that Harry recognized. The number of first years was small and one of them, a little, brown haired girl, was clinging to her mother and crying. "I don't want to go! They're going to kill us, I don't want to go!"  
  
"What's going on?" Harry asked, turning away from the nearly vacant platform to Mr. And Mrs. Weasley.   
  
"It's been in the Prophet, dear." Mrs. Weasley looked a bit disappointed as she looked at the gathering students and then back to her own brood. "The numbers of students, both new and old, is very small this year. Parents are afraid to send their children away with all of these attacks by Death Eaters. I was hoping that people would have some more sense but it seems like they don't know how to be anything but afraid, after all."  
  
"But that's so stupid!" Harry protested, glaring at the train. "Don't they know how safe Hogwarts is? I'd send my kid there as soon as possible!"  
  
"You have an opinion of Hogwarts and its Headmaster that not too many people share, Harry." Mr. Weasley explained as he gestured towards the platform.  
  
Ron snorted, pushing his trunk towards the train. As he passed Draco, he muttered "and how much do you want to bet that most of the first years get sorted into Slytherin. There's nothing to worry about if you are the enemy!"  
  
****  
  
Once the train actually started moving, Harry felt a little better. He was sitting with Ginny, Neville, and Luna Lovegood, waiting for Ron and Hermione to get done with their prefects duties before they could join them. He'd been a little disappointed when Neville had told him that neither Seamus or Dean were coming back this term. That meant that it would just be him, Neville, and Ron in the sixth year boy's dorm. Although, this news seemed paltry in comparison to Neville when Harry told him just how and with who Harry had spent his entire summer.  
  
"You lived in the same house as Draco Malfoy all summer long!" Neville repeated for at least the sixth time, watching Harry with wide, round eyes. "What happened? Did he try to attack you?"  
  
"Not really." Harry glanced from Neville to Ginny, waiting for the girl to say something. She had her mouth closed and was looking out the window as the landscaped rushed past beneath them. "He really didn't do much of anything. We didn't really spend all that much time together."  
  
"But still," Neville shook his head making a scared face and slumping slightly in his seat. "It couldn't be how anyone would want to spend their summer vacation, anyway."  
  
"I think I'd like to give it a try," Luna said in that vacant voice of hers, looking up from the paper she was reading and at Neville with her surprised eyes. "It would be interesting. I've always wanted to see first hand what it would be like to live like that."  
  
"Harry seems to think he can make something worthwhile out of Malfoy, too." Ginny announced, finally adding her part in the conversation. "He and Hermione have been nothing but nice to the slimy git all summer long."  
  
Neville looked at Harry again, his brows lifting slightly. "Wow, Harry..." His voice trailed off as he tried to find something to say. "That's...very brave of you."  
  
"That's a word for it." Ginny snorted.   
  
Harry found himself becoming a little agitated. Between Neville's half hearted support and Ginny's ability to make everything he was doing sound completely despicable, he was feeling more than a little cornered. To top it all off, Luna was staring at him with her startling gaze and it was beginning to make him squirm. "I just feel a little bit bad for him!" He tried to explain for possibly the hundredth time, slumping in his seat.  
  
"He's slime!" Ginny protested and folded her arms over her chest.  
  
"No he's not!" Harry snapped and glared at her, particularly vengeful. Neville leaned away from him slightly but Harry didn't care. "His parents," Well, they weren't exactly in Azkaban anymore, were they? He couldn't say that. "He's away from his parents right now!"  
  
"You've said this all before." Ginny announced. "Just tell us, Harry! Why are you so insistent on protecting him?"  
  
Harry glowered at them, especially the little redhead girl before he answered, his hands in fists at his sides. "Because I feel responsible for it! I am responsible for it. For making him an orphan. You hate him for whatever stupid reason! Because he's been mean to you, because his family has always been mean to your family, whatever! Those are such stupid reasons, Ginny! He's never really done anything to any of us except pull some stupid pranks and call us some mean names! That doesn't mean he deserves our contempt for the rest of his life!"  
  
"He's a Death Eater, don't forget about that itsy bitsy detail." Ginny said wryly.  
  
"But he's not a Death Eater!" Harry was on his feet before he even knew what he was doing. "His parents are Death Eaters but he's not! It really sucks when people hate you because of something your father did!" He informed her thinking if anyone knew that, he did. Snape reviled him because of his father's actions over a decade ago!  
  
Just then the door to the compartment slid open. It was Ron and Hermione coming back from their prefect's meeting. Ron took in the scene, Luna staring at Ginny and Harry like bugs under a glass, Neville cowering slightly looking a little bit frightened, and Harry on his feet jabbing his finger at his enraged, little sister. "Sodding Malfoy!" He announced and pushed into the compartment, pushing Harry's hand down and taking a seat.  
  
Hermione closed the compartment door and sat next to Ginny and Luna. She acted quickly to change the topic of conversation before things got out of hand. "Sixty two Hogwarts students didn't return this year," She announced. "There are only fourteen new students this year."  
  
"They say Hufflepuff has to completely revamp their Quidditch team. Only their beaters came back. Ravenclaw has to replace a keeper, a beater, and their seeker." Ron added, begrudgingly turning away from the row that had been brewing. As much as he liked to fight about how stupid Harry and Hermione were being about Malfoy, this wasn't exactly the time.  
  
"They'd better get it together." Harry replied as he sat back down, remembering how last year the majority of the Gryffindor Quidditch team had been banned from playing. It had been difficult to fill the necessary positions, he couldn't imagine two houses having to go through it as well.  
  
"They may have to start Quidditch a bit late this year, at least." Ron muttered.  
  
At that time they were thankfully interrupted by the snack trolley. Although Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny all had lunches given to them by Mrs. Weasley before leaving, no one could pass up the opportunity to enjoy a Chocolate Frog or two.  
  
They were much more happily enjoying themselves with laps full of candy when their compartment doors slid open again. It was Draco Malfoy, already in his uniform, snidely glaring in at them. "So this is where the losers hang out. Look at you sitting all together, a darling little band of outcasts and freaks."  
  
Draco let himself in, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. Ginny made her brother proud when she shot back meanly, "speaking of losers and freaks where are your bodyguards this time around? They can't stand you anymore, either, huh?"  
  
"I heard some of the Slytherin parents telling their children to stay away from Malfoy," Luna interjected, lowering her Quibbler again, her unnerving stare fixing on Draco. "Maybe they won't let him sit in their compartment anymore."  
  
When Ginny and Ron began to whoop with laughter, the corner of Draco's eye twitched. "Hardly the case, Loony, I assure you."  
  
"Candy? Snacks? Anyone want a little treat?" A woman was calling from outside. The compartment's bickering faded as all sets of eyes turned towards the door.  
  
"Hey..." Ron said slowly, looking down at the handful of jellybeans he'd been munching on. "Didn't the cart just come by a little while ago?"  
  
"Today's special!" The woman in the hallway chimed again. "I have all sorts of goodies for you!" There was the loud bang of something running into the door. Draco, looking perturbed and ready to tell off the annoying sweets witch, turned towards the door and slid it open. "Introducing the new Bertie Bott's flavor, Cold Hard Revenge!" The sweets cart was then shoved in through the open compartment door and right into Draco. He gripped the edge of it as he went down and was dragged all the way to the back of the compartment when his back crashed against the wall.  
  
Harry recognized the woman pushing the cart immediately. Bellatrix Lestrange. Before he could react, the cart was drawn back and shoved forward into Draco again, smashing right into his face and pressing his head against the wall of the train. He groaned, his hands falling limply from the sides of the metal cart.  
  
"Woah!" Bellatrix ducked out of view behind the cart as a jolt of magic shot past her ear. Luna Lovegood was surprisingly the first one with her wand out, although maybe that was because she kept it tucked behind her ear at ready hand.  
  
Harry was over come with the unnatural rage he'd felt the last time he'd faced Bellatrix Lestrange, chasing her down the halls of the Ministry of Magic, Crucio on his lips. He didn't even try to feel for his wand when he attacked her, lunging at the crouching witch.   
  
"Reducto!" The curse hit Harry full in the chest, sending him crashing back into Ron, knocking the wand the red had had taken out from his hand and tumbling them both to the floor. Apparently Bellatrix didn't come alone. Another cloaked figure stood in the doorway, but Harry recognized Rodolphus Lestrange by the wide, cracked smile he wore.  
  
"You!" Harry seethed, pushing off of Ron and getting to his feet.  
  
"Me!" Rodolphus exclaimed excitedly and grabbed his wife around the waist, pulling her from the room, spells cracking the ground at their feet. Ginny was trying to climb around Luna to go after them but the snack cart was in the way.  
  
"Draco! Draco!" Hermione had leaned over and was shaking the unconscious blonde lightly. "Wake up!"  
  
Harry didn't wait to stop and help either of them. He ran out of the compartment, following Bellatrix and Rodolphus, Ron on his heels.  
  
"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, grabbing the back of his friends shirt to pull him back before he could trip over a body that was sprawled out in the hall. "Look out!" The original sweet witch that Harry had almost stepped on wasn't the only slumped over figure in the hallway. It seemed that anyone who had been in the corridor had collapsed wherever they'd stood, even halfway out of compartment doors. "Are they..." Ron gulped. "Are they dead?"  
  
"They're not dead!" Harry growled. Although he'd crouched to check on the sweets witch, his eyes were on Bellatrix and Rodolphus as they rushed over people and down the length of the train. "They're just asleep. We don't have time to mess around with them! At least I don't." With that he was chasing the two Death Eaters, his eyes narrowed and his wand finally drawn.   
  
**  
  
Inside the compartment, Draco groaned, slowly coming around. He lifted his hands to his face, wincing when they met split skin and came back wet with cool blood. "Get off of me, Granger!" He hissed as the Gryffindor continued to fuss over him. He couldn't take another 'are you alright?' coming from her mouth in that annoying voice of hers.  
  
"Get this stupid cart out of here!" Ginny shouted and gave it a sharp kick, a box of chocoballs rolled to the ground.  
  
"The wheel's just turned." Luna replied with a smile and crawled on the seat to lean over and turn the crooked tire around. She had to grab her fingers back before they could be pinched because Ginny shoved the cart as hard as she could the moment she felt it give.  
  
"Harry! Ron!" The littlest Weasley yelled as she scrambled out of the compartment after them.   
  
Ginny didn't get very far. A black robed figure was there to meet her the moment she stepped out into the hallway. A strong hand wrapped around her throat, an even stronger arm around her waist.  
  
"Ginny!" Hermione gasped but the moment she even rose to her feet, the Death Eater that held the red head captive shook his head.  
  
"Nah ah ah." He tsked, his grip on Ginny's throat tightening in a way that made the girl's eyes bug out. "One more move and I'll snap this pretty little neck of hers in half. We wouldn't want that would we?"  
  
Hermione glared, clenching her teeth and slowly lowered back to her seat. "That's right." The Death Eater crowed, taking in the sight. Neville, Luna, Hermione, Ginny, and Draco, slumped and bleeding on the floor. "No struggling now." He said slowly. "If you just do as your told you might, and I stress this heavily, make it out alive. Let's have all your wands. Come on now, toss them into the hallway." He stepped aside so the group would have a clear shot, re-wrapping his fingers around Ginny's throat.  
  
The group hesitated, but only because Ginny was glaring at them with 'don't you dare' eyes.  
  
Neville was the first to obey, taking his wand out slowly and giving it a toss into the hall. Luna followed, then Hermione. "You too, little baby Malfoy." The Death Eater slowly smiled.  
  
Draco's gray eyes narrowed, his eyes scanning the floor.   
  
"Draco! Your wand!" Hermione sounded anxious and shrill when he didn't produce it right away.  
  
"Shut up, Granger. I dropped it!" He hissed and finally found what he was looking for. Picking up a wand from the ground his eyes narrowed on the cloaked Death Eater before tossing it into the hallway.  
  
**  
  
"Harry! Harry, wait." Ron reached out and grabbed his friend's elbow, stopping him again. Bellatrix and Lestrange had disappeared into a large compartment at the head of the train and they were just about ready to follow them in.   
  
"What is it, now?" Harry, annoyed at having his vengeance delayed, looked back over at him.  
  
"My wand." He announced. "It got knocked out of my hand back at the compartment. I left it there!" Ron glanced down the train, squinting past the fallen students and teachers towards their compartment but it was too far away.  
  
"It's too late!" Harry announced and pushed into the compartment.  
  
In hindsight, this probably wasn't a very good move. Bellatrix and Rodolphus had been waiting for them. Two consecutive spells were shot out the door as it opened, lashing out at two different targets. Ron, who never even stood a chance without a wand, crumpled to the floor unconscious. Harry, however, was much more on the ball. "Protego! Expelliarmus!" He heard Bellatrix shriek as her wand flew from her hand. Evening his own out with her chest, Harry, his eyes narrowed and sharp, stepped inside the compartment.  
  
The group of four students that had been using the compartment, all prefects by the badges on their chests, were slumped over each other just like everyone in the hallway had been. Rodolphus was standing behind his wife, his own wand lifted and pointing at Harry. He looked at Harry as if it were Christmas time and he was his gift.  
  
"It's too late! You're too late!" Rodolphus exclaimed.  
  
"That's not how it looks to me." Harry replied, his hand trembling from how tight his fist was around his wand. "It looks to me like you're about to become a widower, Lestrange!"  
  
"Uh oh!" Bellatrix smiled and leaned back against her husband, seemingly nonplused by both Harry's death threat and the wand in his hand. "I think he's gunna kill me!" She spoke in a sugar, baby-tone.  
  
Rodolphus smiled, his arm sliding around Bellatrix's waist and leaning forward past her wild black hair to look at Harry over her shoulder. "Oh, I see. Well I guess you don't care about your little friends then. That's alright with me, I'd rather have just you here anyway."  
  
"What about my friends?" Harry asked tensely but before anyone could reply, he heard Hermione's voice, shrill with fright, calling to him.  
  
"Harry! Harry!"  
  
"Well..." Bellatrix said slowly, her white fingers rubbing slowly over the back of her husband's hand. "You don't think we'd come here alone, do you?" She smiled slowly in a way that made Harry feel minuscule. "After I saw how positively terrible it was for you to loose my stupid cousin, I had the most brilliant idea! Wouldn't it be positively delightful fun to kill everyone that you've ever allowed to get close to you?"   
  
Harry's face drained of color. Bellatrix burst into laughter at the sick expression he made and gingerly, Rodolphus moved her away, advancing towards Harry around her. "That face." He said slowly, licking his lips. "Harry Potter–that will be the only face you'll ever show me."  
  
"Don't come any closer!" Harry snapped, taking a step away as Rodolphus approached.  
  
"Don't you want to check on your friends?" Bellatrix asked in between her laughter. "They're probably desperately crying for you now, wondering why you won't come back and save them."  
  
Harry balked, grinding his teeth. He couldn't turn around. He couldn't. If he looked they would get him for sure.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione called again. She sounded so pleading, just like Bellatrix had said she would, that he couldn't help himself. He turned, tried to sprint from the compartment, but he wasn't quick enough. Lestrange's spell hit him square in the back, pitching him forward on top of Ron. Harry barely had enough time to look down the hallway to see a knot of people running towards him before Lestrange took hold of him by the ankles and dragged him back into the room.  
  
Rodolphus was breathing heavily, an excited glint in his eye as he crawled on top of Harry, pinning his arms to his sides with his knees and his hands on his neck, squeezing the hollow of his throat with his thumbs. Harry lifted his wand to jab it in Lestrange's side but when he opened his mouth to say his spell nothing came out but a gurgle. Rodolphus pushed deeper and Harry felt his head fill with pressure, tears leaking from his eyes behind his glasses. It hurt more than he'd ever thought it would and he couldn't even struggle, trapped beneath the sadistic man.  
  
"Dark red first, then purple, then blue..." Rodolphus was saying, his smile twitching and tilted on his face. "Squirm, Potter. Cry. Gasp for breath. It's all useless, it's all so useless. I could kill you so easily." He leaned forward fiercely, adding the pressure of his body to the strength of his hands. Inches away from Harry's face, the Gryffindor could feel his hot breath breaking over his skin, his own inhale polluted by the other's exhale.   
  
"You're so beautiful like this." Rodolphus' voice was high and brittle. "I might not be able to contain myself. I might not be able to!" He began to laugh softly. Through the buzzing haze and flashing lights that had overcome his vision and senses, Harry was barely aware as the Death Eater leaned over him and licked a long, wet line up the side of his face. His face twisted in repulsion as Rodolphus shifted on top of his body, pressed into him with his knees, and then leaned forward to touch his face and mouth with his wet, grinning lips.  
  
"Rodolphus you're disgusting!" Bellatrix wailed with laughter.  
  
"Stupefy! Stupefy!"  
  
Barely aware of what was going on around him, Harry felt the tightness on his throat subside, felt Rodolphus slump against him. He heard Bellatrix scream as if she were very far away or if he were at the bottom of a very deep pool of water. He opened his eyes to see the watery, distorted figure of Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway to the compartment, his wand drawn and his bloody face twisted in rage as he cast again and again and again. "Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!" Both Bellatrix and Rodolphus were unconscious but that didn't seem to stop Draco's casting at all.  
  
"Stop it, Draco!" Hermione was the one that pulled him away, the blonde shaking with rage. Ginny and Neville stooped to roll Rodolphus off of Harry and pull the Gryffindor to his feet. Luna helped Ron regain himself with a simple "Ennervate."   
  
"Are you alright? Harry are you okay?"  
  
The Golden Boy of Gryffindor wobbled slightly in their arms, curled around their grip and coughed, one hand on his throat, the other wiping away the memory of Rodolphus' mouth from his own. "Harry are you alright?" Neville was wide eyed with concerned, Ginny rubbing Harry's back lightly.  
  
"You're not...you're not dead." Harry wheezed and felt himself lapse into another coughing fit.  
  
"No, we're not." Ginny replied, just a little begrudgingly as she looked from Harry to Draco. "Thanks to Ron. He left his wand in the compartment. Malfoy pretended it was his, soo when the stupid Death Eater thought we were all disarmed and let his guard down he stunned him."  
  
"He did what?" Ron cried in disbelief from the ground. "I don't believe it!"  
  
"Never mind that." Hermione brushed it off sternly, trying to keep them on track. "What are we going to do about the Death Eaters? About everyone on the train!"  
  
"We should keep them together." Ginny replied, more than eager to not talk about Draco and his heroic act. "Let's get the students out of here and then drag the third in here. We can lock the door and then start waking people up." Like the professors that road along on the train.  
  
"That's a good idea." Harry agreed and although he was still wobbly on his feet, he lead the way back to their compartment.   
  
When they arrived, their tired bodies were forced once more into alarm. The Death Eater was gone. "Where is he?" Harry asked tensely, reaching for his wand.  
  
"What do you mean where is he?" Ron, although still wandless, had much the same idea, his eyes darting around.   
  
"That's impossible! We left him right here!" Hermione squealed, looking from the compartment to Draco who had been strangely silent. The blonde's eyes were narrowed, glaring past them and into the compartment. "He was unconscious, I checked," Hermione added.  
  
"That means..." Neville's voice trailed off and he looked back down the hall of the train. As his train of thought filtered through the other students gathered, they broke off in a run back the way they'd came.  
  
"No!" Harry shouted when they arrived. Frustration welled in his gut and into the angry parts of his brain. In rage he gave the compartment door a sharp kick. Besides the unconscious students, this compartment was empty as well. Not even a wand remained to attest to the Death Eaters that had been there."They're gone! I can't believe they're gone!" 


	9. Chapter Nine: The Astronomy Tower

**Authors Note** For those of you who already read this chapter, I will tell you the only thing I changed is in the Draco/Harry scene. Skip ahead to after the dinner conversation where Ron and Hermione get Harry's note. Thanks again for all the comments to help me make this fic better. And thanks to those who recomend it to others. You make me feel shiney.  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
By the time the Hogwarts Express came to a stop, Harry was more frustrated than ever before. Although it had taken a great deal of time and effort to pick through the train and ennervate everyone, Harry was disappointed to find the entire ordeal worthless. Although they successfully woke up the bewitched students, it was impossible for them to open their eyes.   
  
In the beginning of the Hogwarts Express revival process, Harry made an attempt to explain what had happened. He told them that Death Eaters had attacked the train, put them to sleep, could have killed them all. Everyone thought it was a joke although only a few people laughed, the majority found Harry's sense of humor 'tasteless'. After a first year burst into tears at hearing the story, Harry stopped trying to explain it all together.  
  
Only the staff of the Express and the few Professors that had ridden it with them listened to the telling of the story entirely. Although no one said anything, Harry got the distinct impression that at least, they didn't disbelieve him. Nevertheless, as they all descended the train, the first years taking boats and other years 'horseless' carriages, Harry had once again managed to make himself the most unpopular person in school.  
  
Even though there had been a lot of talk, a lot of articles in the paper, Harry didn't realize just how greatly the Death Eater's attacks during the summer had devastated the wizarding community until he sat down in the Great Hall for the start-of-year feast. The long, wooden house tables looked empty. None of them were full, even Slytherin was missing at least a quarter of their students.  
  
"This is really depressing." Harry muttered to Ron as the small group of first years were lead into the Great Hall for the Sorting ceremony by Professor McGonagall. He looked down the Gryffindor table at the empty spaces, empty plates and cups. More of his housemates should have been there. Seamus and Dean, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil should have been there!  
  
At the end of the Sorting, Gryffindor received five new students, Slytherin six, Ravenclaw one, and Hufflepuff two although there wasn't much cheering as first years joined the rest of their housemates as Harry remembered in the past. As usual, Dumbledore's commencement speech was one of good will and encouragement. Harry was relieved to see that the twinkle from the Headmaster's eye hadn't been lost. He was even a bit allayed to see Professor Snape as surly and gloomy as he'd been all summer long.  
  
The mood lightened a bit once the feast began, with such good food in heaping amounts in front of them, it was difficult for anyone to retain a pessimistic mood. Harry, who quite desperate for an opportunity to relax, lost himself easily in the loose atmosphere. He was even able to momentarily forget about the events that had occured on the Express, until he glanced briefly past Ron and over the Slytherin table.  
  
His smile faded swiftly. Draco Malfoy, usually the center of attention with his housemates, had been avoided. Although he sat in his usual spot near the center of the table, the seats next to him and across were empty, two deep. Even Crabbe and Goyle were ignoring him, moving on to flank Blaise Zabini in Draco's stead. What had happened that Slytherin had ostracized their leader? Was it just like Luna had said? Was Draco one to be avoided now?   
  
Ron caught Harry's expression and followed his eyes to the Slytherin table. He shook his head slowly with a frown and continued to eat wordlessly.  
  
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked the red headed boy next to her. "No side comment to add about Draco anymore?"  
  
"Maybe not," Ron replied briskly, pushing his food around on his plate before taking a big bite.  
  
"Maybe not?" Harry asked, and although he was genuinely curious, from the glare Ron gave him, he supposed the other boy thought he was patronizing him.  
  
"I guess maybe he's not so bad after all. Maybe he is trying. Whatever, what do you want me to say? You win!" Ron glowered, continuing to fill his mouth. Maybe everyone would be so grossed out he wouldn't have to talk anymore. Admissions like these were severely pride-damaging.  
  
"I told you he was turning a new leaf." Hermione had no problem at all handing out I-told-you-so's.  
  
"I never would have expected anything like that from Malfoy," Ginny agreed. "Although that doesn't change the fact that he's a slimy git and I hate him!"  
  
"He was really angry," Neville interjected as he refilled his goblet with pumpkin juice. "Did you see the way he hexed those Death Eaters? Over and over again. He protected us and he protected you, Harry!"  
  
"Oh," Harry only felt the need to speak because everyone was suddenly looking at him. "Is that what happened? I don't really remember too much of it." Harry followed Ron's plan of action and began to take large bites of food.  
  
Thankfully, the conversation drifted on to other things. As the feast ended and students were gathered up by the prefects to be lead to their dorms and taught the password, Harry glanced again at the Slytherin table and smiled slightly, his mood lightening. The blonde boy was leading a group of students out, it seemed he still managed to possess enough power of respect to have people follow him.  
  
As school progressed the next day, Harry was glad to find that the professors were making an effort to insure everything appeared as normal as possible. They addressed the issue of the Death Eater attacks smartly, choosing their words careful to avoid inciting panic, but most of all they stressed to the students that they were safe here in the castle. The biggest, and most pleasant surprise of all was Defense Against the Dark Arts class.   
  
The halls had been abuzz with question of who would be the next person to take the fated position. A betting pool had been formed in Gryffindor on just who they thought would be next. Although Harry didn't participate, Ron, who had been in a pessimistic mood since the attack on the Express, put a hefty sum down on the name of Professor Snape.  
  
However, when the fateful hour was upon them, Harry was delighted to see none other than Nymphadora Tonks at the front of the classroom when he stepped in. As expected, the students that weren't familiar with the clumsy, now pink-haired witch eyed her a bit warily. "Hello Harry! Hermione! Hi Ron!" Tonks scurried to the door to greet the trio as they entered, the three Gryffindors looked as excited as she did.  
  
"Tonks!" Hermione cried, she seemed to be the most excited of all. "What are you doing here? Ginny's going to be thrilled!"  
  
"Isn't it fantastic?" Tonks asked. Harry thought her face would split in half from smiling so much. "I'm a little nervous to be here but, just between you three and me," here she lowered her voice a little bit and leaned in towards them, "I'm really just here to fill the position until Dumbledore can find someone better. Don't want another repeat of last year, huh? When I heard what happened with Umbridge I decided it was my duty as a member of the Order to spare you from anything like that ever again."  
  
Tonks proved to be a great Defense teacher. Although, in Harry's opinion, she didn't seem as hands on as Lupin had been. But on the other side, he could rest assured that she secretly wasn't a Death Eater in disguise and that she wasn't going to torture him in detention, or give him detention at all for that matter.   
  
Tonks tripped three times over the same crack in the floor during her lecture, something which quickly endeared the clumsy witch into the hearts of the students. By the end of class, everyone was smiling and enjoying themselves and since no one had bet on a member of the Order taking over the position, the pool was divided up among the students that had participated.  
  
That evening, Harry was sitting in the Gryffindor common room waiting for Hermione and Ron to come back from their Prefects meeting. He had his potions book open on a table since, on the first day, Snape had given them homework (but really, was that a surprise?). He had full intent to finish the assignment before his friends came back but had poorly miscalculated the comfort ability factor of the squishy armchair he'd settled in and before he even had a chance to read the selected pages, he was being shaken awake by his best friend.  
  
"Harry." Ron smirked as his friend groggily lifted his head from off of his book, the edge of the text and pages imprinted on his cheek and forehead. "You're drooling all over chapter two."  
  
"You're back!" Harry announced, relieved, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Glancing down at his book he saw he had drooled on the text and smeared it away before closing the book. "This place is really really boring with everyone gone. I hope you guys don't have too many Prefects meetings."  
  
"I really admire that you're trying to get a head start on your studies, Harry," Hermione said as she took a seat across from him in one of the padded, wooden chairs that usually surrounding the work tables. "But if you want my advice, you won't be very productive sitting in a chair like that when you do it."  
  
"Never mind homework!" Ron grinned, taking a seat also. "You'll never guess what happened! Zabini pulled a prank on Malfoy, he charmed his hair blue! They had to take Zabini to the hospital wing afterwards! Draco re-arranged his face. Literally!"  
  
"Really?" Harry found himself caught between concern and wanting to laugh out loud. He would have liked to have been there to see it. "When was this?"  
  
"Oh I don't know." Ron smirked happily, Slytherin could tear themselves apart and he wouldn't care. "Sometime this afternoon, I guess. I heard Ernie and Hannah talking about it at the meeting and got all the gory details from them. You couldn't tell anything had happened when Malfoy showed up but I sure wish I could have seen it for myself."  
  
The next day in class, Harry began to take notice of Draco again. At first it had just been a glance at breakfast to see if maybe there was a bit of blue left in his hair that Ron had missed before. Instead he noticed that although Zabini was still missing from the Slytherin table, Draco was also still sitting alone. Later, he noticed in potions that Professor Snape had to assign him a partner since no one would pair up with him willingly. At lunch, when Draco didn't even bother to show up, Harry decided that he was going to have to swallow his embarrassment about the whole kiss blunder and do something about it.  
  
When he saw the blonde in Care of Magical Creatures, Harry waited until Hagrid had divided them up into groups to study the days beasts, to approach. They had started a chapter on magical pets and began with Puffskeins, Streelers, and Kneazles. When Harry joined him, Draco was staring down into a tank of large, color changing snails.   
  
"Hi, Draco," He said. The other boy ignored him. A bit frustrated, Harry felt himself frown before he added. "So blue hair, huh?"   
  
That had done it. Draco looked up at him, a sneer twitching on his lips. "Shut up, Potter, or I'll send you to the hospital wing too."  
  
"Alright, alright." Harry smirked, holding his hands up in defense. Draco had such a short temper. Although Harry knew he probably shouldn't patronize him, sometimes he couldn't help himself. "Do you have Prefect's duty tonight?"  
  
Draco eyed Harry suspiciously for a moment as if Harry were hiding some sort of ulterior motive that he wanted to discover by glaring at him before he answered. "No, why?" From the querying tone in his voice, Harry guessed he hadn't found what he'd glared for.  
  
"Fancy a little challenge?" Harry tried to peak Draco's interest, but his expression still looked flat.  
  
"Nothing against you is much of a challenge, Potter. At least if you're facing off against me."  
  
"What about Quidditch?" He chirped and was delighted to see Draco's face darken. Even if it was a foul response, at least he had gotten some sort of reaction out of him. "As I remember it, you haven't really won a game against me yet."  
  
Draco's jaw worked for a moment before he straightened, turning away from the tank of snails to move away from the Care of Magical Creatures class just in case anyone got the idea to listen in on their conversation. "What's your point, Potter?"  
  
"I just want to do something with you." Harry had looked a little bewildered when Draco started to walk away until he realized he should follow him. "You just look...really...you know, lonely?"  
  
"Lonely? Please, Potter." Naturally, Draco scoffed, leaning his back against the trunk of a tree and folded his arms over his chest. "Let me guess, you've been stalking me lately, hm? Don't bother trying to deny it, I'm not an idiot. Do you really think I ever felt any sense of friendship or camaraderie from those other idiots in Slytherin? Did you actually think I cared about them? That I needed them?"  
  
Harry felt his brow pinch the more Draco spoke. "Well, yeah," he admitted. Draco always seemed to get along with his Slytherin housemates. They looked up to him, and he knew Draco liked that. Even if that's all it was in the beginning, Harry couldn't imagine seeing and hanging out with a group of people for all those years without some sort of friendship forming between them. How could Draco sit there so nonchalant and claim he didn't need them? "Everyone needs friends, Draco."  
  
"Wrong." The blonde pushed off the three and pointed a finger at Harry's face. The gesture made Harry feel cold inside. "That's not what I'm about, Potter. That's not what Slytherin's about. I wouldn't hesitate to use any of them as stepping stones to obtain my goals if I had to. If they're not smart enough to watch out for themselves, I'd walk all over them. If I wasn't smart enough, they'd do the same to me. That's what Slytherin's all about, Potter. It's all about ambition."  
  
"I don't believe that!" Harry replied sternly, determined.  
  
"Then I'll walk all over you too," Draco replied coldly.  
  
Harry's expression registered hurt, his voice softening as he said again, "I don't believe that either."  
  
Draco glanced at Harry from the corner of his eye, still stubbornly scowling. At the pained look the Gryffindor made he sighed out loud and rolled his eyes. "Alright, look, meet me at the astronomy tower tonight before dinner."  
  
"The astronomy tower?" Harry's eyes went wide at that. Did Draco know what he was saying? He had to know. Maybe it was a joke? "W-why?"  
  
The blonde's frustration mounted at what he thought was a stupid question. "Gee, Potter, I don't know," He began sarcastically. "What do people do at the astronomy tower?"  
  
Harry blinked stupidly, feeling a tiny bit of embarrassment creep into his cheeks. What did people do at the astronomy tower? They made out, of course. Didn't Draco know that? Or maybe he did and he was inviting him to the tower to snog! But that was impossible! He had been so disgusted when Harry had kissed him at Grimmauld Place. There was no way that he would take Harry to the astronomy tower for that purpose! But at the same time, that's the only thing he ever heard of students doing there outside of class! "Wh-" He began and then thought better of his train of thought. "Uhm, astronomy?" He asked helplessly.  
  
"Very good, Potter." Draco clapped his hands. "Another gold star. Before dinner, meet me up there. Got it?"  
  
"Okay." Still a little bewildered at the whole invitation, Harry watched Draco as he walked past him and back to class. He never would have thought that Draco would invite him anywhere to do anything outside of a duel or an attempt to get him into trouble. Maybe that was what he was doing. Trying to get him caught like in first year?   
  
He watched as the Slytherin picked up a Puffskeins and then made a disgusted face as its long tongue slunk out to wrap around his arm. When he dropped the creature and tried to shake it off, its purring ceased, replaced by a shrill cry of alarm.  
  
"Now Now Malfoy!" Hagrid rushed over. "Let's not 'urt the lil'guy!"  
  
****  
  
Although they had looked everywhere they could think of, by the time dinner rolled around Hermione and Ron had given up all hope of finding Harry. After transfiguration, their last class, he left before they could even gather up their books. He said he had something to do and would see them at dinner and ran away before anyone could ask him anymore questions.  
  
They'd checked the Gryffindor commons, the boy's dorm, the library, the Quidditch pitch, by the lake, but every location had turned up completely Potter-less. When they arrived in the Great Hall for dinner and still didn't find Harry there, they were stumped.  
  
"I wonder where he went." Hermione said aloud as she and Ron sat at the Gryffindor table to eat. "I was hoping we could all go to the library after dinner and start on our reading."  
  
"Please, that's probably why he ran away." Ron smirked and as dinner started he began to fill his plate. "I thought for sure he'd be at the pitch. He was talking about heading over there this morning at breakfast."  
  
"I think you just wanted to drag me out there in hopes of being able to fool around." Hermione said wryly as she ate. "There's nothing more boring then watching you fly around on that stupid broom."  
  
"If we have to suffer through your hours and hours of studying, Hermione, you can spare me half an hour on the pitch with a Quaffle."  
  
"Hey guys!" Ginny, who was just a little late from staying behind in her own Care of Magical Creatures class to help Hagrid put the animals away, joined them, sitting across from Hermione. "Where's Harry?"  
  
"That's the Question of the hour." Ron waved his spoon at his sister and Ginny had to lean back to keep a bit of mashed potatoes from hitting her hair.  
  
"You're such a pig, Ron." Ginny frowned before returning the previously airborne mashed potatoes to her brother with a flick of her finger.  
  
"What?" Ron asked stupidly, his mouth full.  
  
Hermione just shook her head. "I thought for sure Harry would be back for dinner. He's just like you, Ron! He never misses out on a chance to eat."  
  
Ginny's dark eyes flickered to the Slytherin table briefly and then reported, "well, Malfoy's gone too."  
  
"He is?" Ron twisted around to look at Slytherin table also. "They must be together somewhere." His eyes narrowed slightly as he turned towards Hermione suspiciously.  
  
When Ginny started staring at her too, Hermione held up her hands in her own defense. "Hey, don't look at me! I don't know if they're together or not. No one said anything to me."  
  
"You know, now that I think about it," Ron said slowly, taking a drink of juice. "I did see Malfoy n' Harry talking about something in Care of Magical Creatures."  
  
"Do you think he's alright?" Ginny asked. Unconsciously, her grip on her fork and knife tightened; she held them like weapons. "Malfoy wouldn't try anything, would he?"  
  
"You still think he'd do something like that after everything that happened on the train? Ginny!" Hermione put her utensils down. "You told me that you were going to try to give him a chance after he saved each and every one of us on the Express, remember!"  
  
"Well...yeah, I remember, Hermione and I did give him a chance. This morning. This is different. If he even puts a finger on Harry, I swear, I'll–"  
  
"Harry and Ginny, sittin' in a tree," Ron began to sing until both girls shot him a mean look. "Woah. Sorry."  
  
Hermione wouldn't even gratify Ron with a remark. "You saw the way he protected Harry on the Express." She continued, adamant on making Ginny admit that Draco wouldn't hurt their friend. "Whatever Lestrange was doing, he stopped him. He went totally ballistic!"  
  
Both Ginny and Ron seemed to be thinking about something as Hermione said that.   
  
"Hey," Ron said slowly and looked at Ginny. "You don't think that..."  
  
"Maybe Draco has a..." Ginny's voice trailed off too.  
  
The two siblings looked at each other, eyes narrowing before they sat back with a heartfelt. "Ew! No, way! Not in a million years!"  
  
Hermione was about to ask them just what the heck they were talking about before a familiar snowy owl swooped down on their table, dropping a letter in front of Hermione, and landing neatly between plates. With so many children absent it was much easier for her to deliver letters. She could even snag a bite on the trip!  
  
"Hedwig!" Ron exclaimed. "It's about bloody time!"  
  
Hedwig gave Ron a disapproving click of her beak.  
  
As Ron grabbed the letter she'd brought, Hermione offered a bit of meat from her plate to the stately postmistress. "Thank you, Hedwig. We were a bit worried about Harry."  
  
After taking the bit and nipping Hermione's finger affectionately, Hedwig took off again. A taste of someone else's dinner had made her hungry for her own.  
  
"Harry wants us to meet him on the Quidditch Pitch after dinner." Ron announced, giving Hermione a winning look and sticking the tip of his tongue out at her.  
  
"Is that all it says? Let me see." Hermione took the note from Ron and read out loud. "Sorry about missing dinner, meet me at the Pitch afterwards and I'll explain everything. Harry."  
  
"He has such a way with words." Ginny rolled her eyes and finally got serious about finishing her meal.  
  
****  
  
Harry had been so excited about his meeting with Draco that afternoon that he was hardly able to concentrate on his classes at all. It had to be a date, he decided. There was no way that Draco wanted him to come to the astronomy tower in the middle of the afternoon to do astronomy. There was also no way that Draco had never been to the astronomy tower with someone else late at night to commit certain acts.  
  
In Divination, Trelawey was making them study dreams again. It meant that everyone had to be still and quiet but at the same time, they also got to stretch out over the cushions and listen to soft music, and take a good afternoon nap. Harry used the opportunity to curl up, relax, and think. Maybe, Harry dared to let himself ponder, just maybe Draco hadn't minded the kiss at 12 Grimmauld Place as much as he had initially appeared to.  
  
It wasn't an entirely impossible train of thought. Harry had a difficult time determining just what Draco felt in pretty much any situation when they were together. He was a difficult person to read. He'd crafted his expression to always be the same: snide, condescending, holier-than-thou. He'd seen Draco brag, seen him bully, seen him enraged and annoyed. He'd seen a lot of sneering, a lot of frowning, a lot of glaring. There weren't too many other sides of the blonde, outside of those, that he had witnessed. In fact there weren't any. Even in second year when he was disguised as Crabbe and Goyle with Ron, he'd never really seen Draco smile. Not genuinely. Not nicely. Not how he suddenly realized he wanted to see Draco smile, at least once.  
  
Maybe that was why he'd kissed him. When Draco had been confiding in him, telling Harry just how hopeless his situation felt, he had been completely over run with the desire to see Draco smile. He'd done what he'd done for that purpose, whether or not the desired affects had been obtained secretly on the inside or if he'd been utterly quelled and defeated. Even though back then Draco had seemed repulsed and had thrown him out of his room, Harry decided he wanted to do it again.  
  
After transfiguration he thought he told Ron and Hemrione goodbye but now, climbing the stairs to the astronomy tower, he wasn't so sure. He hoped they didn't come looking for him. That would be too embarrassing for words if they walked in on him and Draco doing what Harry thought and hoped they would be doing in the astronomy tower that afternoon.  
  
When he pushed open the door that lead to the roof of the tower, he was both relieved and nervous at the sight of Draco, leaning against the short wall with his hands shadowing his eyes as he watched the sun set. He must have been there for a little while, Harry guessed, because he had taken off his vest and untucked his shirt, loosened his tie. He looked comfortable. Harry's hands were shaking. "Uhm...Draco?"  
  
Languidly, the blonde turned to look at him. Although his mouth wasn't smiling, he pushed himself up to his feet and moved over to where Harry stood and asked, "Did you bring your astronomy book?"  
  
Harry balked. Had he completely misread this meeting? Had Draco really, honestly wanted to go over astronomy? "Uhm..." He began, looking uselessly at his bag and fiddling with the clasps that held it closed but he knew the book wasn't in there. "No I didn't, I didn't think that–"  
  
"Relax, Potter. You're really an idiot."   
  
Harry noticed a glint of determination in Draco's eye before he took hold of Harry's tie. He curled it around his hand and used it to guide the Gryffindor closer as he leaned over and kissed him.  
  
Harry felt relief and excitement crawl up from his stomach. So he hadn't misread things after all. Of course not. Draco had just been teasing him. He could understand that, he liked teasing the Slytherin too. Harry's shocked fingers extended slowly, curling around Draco's fist that held his tie as he kissed back. He felt much better about the whole interaction with Draco in charge. The blonde knew how to handle it, he knew how to kiss. He knew how to make it good.  
  
Drifting back from his mouth, Draco released the grip he had on Harry's tie and instead traced the boy's lower lip with his thumb. Harry noticed, as he opened his eyes to look into Draco's face, that the blonde was smiling. It was a serene, satisfied look. A pleased look. The kind of expression Harry had realized he was missing.   
  
He stepped closer, drawn in by the soft curve of Draco's lips and the white of his teeth. The blonde's expression shifted into one of amusement when, at this range, he could see the eager softness in Harry's green eyes. Lifting the glasses from the bridge of his nose, Draco set them on top of the Gryffindor's head.   
  
"It's a good idea for them to separate themselves from me, Potter," Draco said watching with a bemused smirk as Harry nodded without really listening to what he was saying. "If any of them have Death Eater parents like mine, it could lead to their discovery. If their parents aren't Death Eaters, being chummy with me could accuse them." Draco kissed Harry again, lightly in between his words as he drew his hands from Harry's waist up to his face, sliding his thumbs over his cheeks beneath his eyes. "It's smart of them. Slytherin's very smart."  
  
Harry hardly had time to dwell on this statement before Draco's mouth was on his again, his hands holding his face steady as he pressed their lips together roughly. Draco's palms pressed a bit tightly into Harry's jaw as his tongue swept out and pushed into the other's mouth. Harry heard himself groan as the soft, invading organ swept past his teeth and against his own tongue, tasting him.  
  
He was hardly one to protest as Draco laced his fingers through the belt loops on his pants and pulled their bodies close together, chest to chest, hip to hip. He gasped into the kiss when Draco's hand squeezed his backside and the blonde took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue traveling further.  
  
"Hmm-" Harry pulled back slowly when an important question finally managed to reach his passion-fevered brain. He had to ask Draco just one thing before he could allow this to continue. His fingers tightened on the front of the Slytherin's dress shirt as he spoke in a voice quavering with arousal. "D-Draco," he stammered, the heat of his eyes having traveled down through the entirity of his body, fumbling even his speech. Every part of him wanted Draco now. "You...do you–"  
  
"Of course I do, Potter." He said in a voice so soft Harry hardly believed it was his. "What else would I feel about my savior?" Draco smiled at the slightly indignant look Harry managed before shaking his head 'no' and tapping a finger against the Gryffindor's mouth. "Don't say a thing."  
  
Like a lamb, Harry nodded stupidly as Draco ducked his head, leaning in again. Harry swallowed, ready for another kiss, but instead felt Draco's mouth on his throat, kissing along the curve of his neck and the thick, life filled veins beneath his skin. He whimpered when Draco found a spot to favor, nibbling and licking, leaving a mark behind.  
  
Opening his eyes, Harry stared at the pink and orange sky. He couldn't imagine anything more perfect than this. There couldn't be anything better than being up here, swooning off of the kisses of someone you desired under a sky as beautiful as this one was.  
  
When Draco really started to take control, when he pushed a knee between Harry's legs and lowered him gently to the ground, Harry began to get ideas again. There were things they were supposed to say before doing this, weren't there? Like before when he had tried to ask Draco a question, he'd still called him Potter. Somehow, the level of intimacy in Draco's words didn't match the level of intimacy in his actions. It was weird.  
  
"Draco," He said again finding himself with his back against the short wall of the tower and the blonde crouched on his knees between his legs, his hands fiddling with the top button of his shirt. "Wait a second." He pushed up at the other boy's chest, relieved when his hands ceased their undressing. "Just...just wait."  
  
Slowly lowering his hands from Harry's clothes, Draco held himself up on his hands and knees over the half reclined boy beneath him. There was no mistaking the heated look in the Gryffindor's too-green eyes. He'd seen it before, he knew what it meant, so what was with this sudden bought of 'wait, just wait'? "What's wrong?" He asked and stroked his fingers down Harry's soft cheeks. "You don't think I'll hurt you, do you, Potter?"  
  
"No! No, of course I don't." He replied quickly and Draco chuckled at how afraid he looked when he said it, as if he were worried he wouldn't believe him. "It's just that this...it seems so sudden to be doing this." Harry touched Draco's face, smoothing his fingers over his sharp features and ironing out the wrinkles that appeared on his forehead when he furrowed his brows. "Can you at least call me by my name?"  
  
"Harry, you mean?" Draco said the name slowly, his nose wrinkling. "If you'd like, Harry. But as the saying goes 'what's in a name?' You're worrying." He lifted a hand to gather Harry's, guiding them down from his face slowly. "And I don't know why. I'm not going to hurt you, you'll see." He kissed the knuckles he'd collected and then let Harry's hands go all together.  
  
Dipping lower over him so they were nearly inches apart, the soft stabs of his blonde hair brushing over Harry's forehead and cheeks, he whispered, "I feel so close to you now, since this summer started you've always been there for me. Don't think that I'm so daft to not know when someone's holding a hand out to me. Harry." He said the Gryffindor's name again, just because it made the dark haired boy beneath him smile. "Sometimes I'm just not sure how I should react. My mouth moves before I can think and comprehend. I'm so used to being sharp."  
  
"I know." Harry said slowly. He felt dizzy with Draco so near and close to him, his wintery eyes piercing deep down inside of him, reading his thoughts and secrets.  
  
"We've become so close but, the taste I've had of it, the taste of real friendship and genuine care and concern isn't enough to sate me. I want more, Harry." Draco's fingers followed the line of buttons beneath his vest down the front of Harry's uniform to the hem of his pants. Spreading his palm over his abdomen, the blonde pushed the tips of hand beneath his gray sweater, between the buttons on Harry's clothes, and beyond to grace the heat of his skin.   
  
"Although I've lived in darkness for most of my life, there are some beautiful things that I know." With a flick of his finger, Draco undid the lowest button on Harry's shirt. "I want to show them to you, Harry." A second button popped open. "I want to show you that I know them." A third followed, Draco was halfway done. " I want to show you these beautiful things that you think you understand but really have no idea about." His hands paused. "Don't you want me to show them to you?"  
  
Harry was rendered speechless. His mind was whirling with fragments of thought but he couldn't seem to hold onto one of them long enough to reply. As the dulcet tones of the boy above him drifted away, Harry felt swallowed up by his eyes. He swallowed a lump in his throat as Draco's hand slid up beneath his uniform and over his stomach and chest. "Yes." He croaked softly, blushing at the way his voice ached with a moan. "I want you to show me everything!"  
  
He was helpless when Draco pulled his shirt open, sending buttons skittering as the thread that held them was torn through. As Draco's mouth moved down his chest, his hot kisses knowing all of the most sensitive parts of his chest and stomach as if they were his own, Harry found himself paralyzed. By the time Draco had Harry's legs lifted around his waist, both of their uniforms tangled and in heaps around them on the floor, and slowly pushed into him, rocking their bodies together, Harry was completely owned.  
  
Afterwards, when evening had settled, Harry sat with his back against Draco, the blonde's arms laced around his still sweaty body. He was smiling, warm, and fuzzy inside, squeezing one of Draco's forearms as it snaked around his chest, squeezing him tighter. "I hope we can always be like this, Draco." He said softly, turning slightly to press his warm face into Draco's bicep, sighing.  
  
"We can try," He offered, leaning down to kiss the top of Harry's head, sighing into his dark hair. He was tired, all of this planning and sneaking around, all of this kissing and love making had worn him out. He lifted his head as Harry shifted in his arms, slowly sitting up.   
  
"Hey," Harry said, peeking over the edge of the tower and pointing towards the ground where, very far away, two figures could be seen on the Quidditch pitch. "That looks like Hermione and Ron."  
  
Draco barely glanced over the tower's edge as he reluctantly loosened his grip on Harry so he could see. "How can you tell?" He sounded bland.  
  
"I can see Ron's hair." Harry, grinning, grabbed Draco's robes and pulled them around his naked body as he crawled towards the edge of the tower to peer over. "Yep. It's them alright. You know, back at Grimmauld I caught the two of them snogging. Maybe they're on a date."  
  
"Maybe." Draco replied, rolling his eyes as Harry pulled away. He crawled after him, not bothering to cover up. He laced his arms around Harry's waist to rub over his abdomen and down over the beginnings of pubic hair. "Forget about them, Potter, someone else is on a date too."  
  
"It's not exactly a date!" Harry laughed, his stomach muscles tightening at the light touch of the other's hands. He fixed his fingers over Draco's and gave them a squeeze. He was about ready to leave Hermione and Ron alone to get on with his own business (maybe a second time in one night!) when he noticed a third person stepping around from behind the three ringed goals and moving towards them.   
  
"Wait." His fingers went still over Draco's a she squinted at the field. "Something's wrong." He watched as Ron and Hermione backed away from the stranger before bright flashes of light shot back between the two. "It's a fight!" Harry stood up alarmed as Ron and Hermione crumpled to the ground. "Draco, Hermione and Ron are being attacked!" He grabbed his pants, pulling them on and then his shirt.   
  
The blonde was already on his feet, buttoning up his trousers. Pulling his own shirt back up his shoulders he grabbed his robes from Harry and held the door to the school open. "Hurry up, Potter! Forget about your shoes we can come back for them later!"  
  
Even as they started down the stairs of the tower to get to the pitch, Harry knew in his heart that by the time they got there it would be too late. 


	10. Chapter Ten: Ransom

Chapter Ten: Ransom  
  
Harry felt like he'd spent the afternoon trying to get close to the Whomping Willow by the time he reached the Quidditch Pitch. Every limb was aching and trembling, his sides, chest, and throat on fire from his mad dash to the green, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't manage to fill his lungs with a decent breath.  
  
Ron and Hermione weren't anywhere to be seen, only a few patches of scorched earth and flattened grass could even attest to what Harry and Draco had witnessed. "What happened?" Harry croaked, his voice thin and desperate. He turned towards Draco, a hand lashing out to grab onto his forearm.  
  
The blonde looked more than a little unsettled. He'd been running too and was breathing heavily through his mouth, his hair out of place and his clothes askew from their fooling around. But there was fear on his face and his gray eyes were turned towards the end of the field towards the goal posts.  
  
Harry twisted to see what Draco was looking at with such round eyes and felt a wave of sickness creep into his stomach. The three gold goal rings were now black, thick with hundreds of larger than normal black crows. They cawed quietly and ruffled their feathers, bit at each other with their large thumb-thick beaks, and watched the pair of them with blood colored eyes.  
  
A few years ago, Harry remembered reading about crows in his Defense Against the Dark Arts book. Although a few witches and wizards still kept them as pets, crows had a very dark history. It was no coincidence that a flock of them was called a murder. They were also known to be spies for Dark wizards who often banded them together in large flocks like this and sent them against their enemies to peck them apart. Legend said that if you were killed by a murder of such creatures, they would carry away your soul on their wings and you would be forever fated to live among them as a large, red-eyed crow, always thirsty for blood and flesh.  
  
One of the Crookshanks-sized birds on the top of the middle ring began to scream at them, his call shrill like a cat wailing and it hopped up and down on the goal post. Like the portraits at Grimmauld Place, it was a behavior that the other crows began to mimic quickly. Harry lifted his hands up to his ears and backed away from the goal posts until his back collided with Draco's chest.   
  
The birds seemed to take this as a sign and all at once they took off from their perch. The flurry of beating wings sounded like a thunder storm as the creatures swooped at them. "Get down!" Harry yelled and grabbed Draco around the shoulders pitching them both forward into the grass and dirt.  
  
The crows swarmed over them, the wind of their wings, the claws on their feet, and their mean, sharp beaks ruffling their hair and clothes, tearing their uniforms and biting into their skin. Draco had covered his head and Harry did the same although it didn't keep them from biting their ears and fingers and the soft skin of their sides and thighs.  
  
"We have to get out of here!" Harry could hear Draco's wailing even through the mad beat of wings and screeching noise of the birds. He took an arm from around his head and curled it around the body of the boy next to him. Beneath this new protective limb, Harry noticed that Draco was trembling.  
  
"On the count of three we'll get up and run for the broom shed. Guard your face. Ready?" Draco was right. They had to get out of here, already Harry could feel blood trickling out from a million tears in his body. They'd be eaten alive if they stayed out there in the open any longer. "One! Two! Three!"  
  
Both boys sprang up together and surprisingly the swarm of black bodies around them exploded up into the sky and away from them. "What? What's going on?" Harry dared to look up at the dark cloud of birds as they flew away from the Pitch and away from the school. He was curious as to why they would just attack and leave the moment they stood, but at the same time he wasn't going to argue.  
  
"Are you alright?" He asked, looking over at Draco. The other boy nodded in response but he was still shaking, his clothes torn and dirty, his hair ruffled and pulled, and a large bead of blood dripping from a gash on his forehead and down the side of his face.  
  
Usually, when Draco was even bumped, he would make a big production out of it, wailing and moaning to get attention. It was because of this past that Harry was a bit worried now that he was being so quiet. "They dropped this." Draco did say as he crouched down and picked up a small scroll of parchment. Sliding it open with his fingers, Draco read and then, with a frown, passed the note to Harry.  
  
He took it quickly and holding it open, he read:  
  
Pretty Potter and Darling Draco,  
  
I hope you still have eyes to read this! It would be a true  
  
shame if I spent so much time and hard work to put  
  
everything together only to have it ruined by the fact  
  
that you couldn't see the fruits of my labor.  
  
By now you probably realize that I've taken your  
  
cute little friends hostage. If you want to get them  
  
back, you must follow my babies into Hogsmeade.  
  
They will guide you to me and my most precious  
  
captives.   
  
The pair of you will be their ransom, pay  
  
in full or, as you can probably guess, I'll kill them.  
  
Although that doesn't seem like an entirely bad   
  
idea, I'd much rather have the pair of you than   
  
the pair of them.  
  
Of course, knowing how stupidly noble you are,  
  
my Pretty Pet Potter, I'm sure you won't hesitate  
  
to come running to their rescue. So, I'll see you  
  
soon. Really, I look forward to tasting your body  
  
again. What I had of it wasn't enough to satisfy  
  
me.  
  
All my love,  
  
Rodolphus Lestrange  
  
P.S. Wear something sexy.  
  
Harry growled, crumpling up the letter in his hand and tossing it into the air. He caught it mid flight with 'incendio' and it hit the ground a swiftly shriveling ball of fire. "I'm going to kill him!" Harry seethed, feeling bitter and curdled inside with rage.  
  
"Aren't you going to change first?" Draco asked in a soft tone. The note, after all, had said to wear something sexy. Harry sent him an icy glare and the blonde lifted a hand slightly. "Just a joke."  
  
"You have to come with me," Harry announced. "The note said that the both of us have to come."  
  
"Relax, Harry, I-" Draco began but was swiftly cut off.  
  
"No! Please, Draco, you have to come." Harry seemed anxious and desperate. "You don't understand, this isn't a choice. You're coming."  
  
"But-"  
  
"I know Ron was never really nice to you, even after this summer, but Draco, you can't hold that against him! Not when it's a matter of life and death!"  
  
"Harry, I don't-"  
  
"Please!" Harry grabbed both of Draco's shoulders, making the blonde wince. "Draco, just say you'll come with me! That's all I want to hear! If I mean anything to you, just say that you'll come."  
  
By now, not being able to get a word in edgewise, Draco was scowling. Maybe he should just say no if Harry was so sure he needed convincing. He glared at the other boy and tried to pull away but the Gryffindor held him fast. "Say you'll come with me," he pleaded softly.  
  
"I'll go with you." Draco was surprised when he actually managed to get a complete sentence out, even though it was the same sentence he'd been trying to say since the whole ordeal had began. He waited with bated breath for Harry to lash out, not having listened, but nothing ever came so he added, "that's what I've been trying to say all this time."  
  
"Oh. Really?" Harry blushed a little bit as the situation finally registered in his concern-slowed mind. "Sorry. I just really thought I'd have to convince you somehow."  
  
"Obviously." Draco replied and then took one of Harry's hands, leading him away from the now smoldering ball of paper. "Come on, we have to get out of here. We can't afford to waste time here. Who knows how long that lunatic is going to wait."  
  
****  
  
Even under the grim circumstances they were in, Harry couldn't help but feel a deep sense of pride as he followed Draco across the grounds towards the village of Hogsmeade. Since they had already been on the Quidditch Pitch, they decided to break into the nearby broom shed and nick a ride to take them into town. It would be much faster and Draco had been against walking under any secret passages in the school.  
  
Flying at this time of night in their condition made it a bit difficult. It was cold and the thin, shredded clothes they wore did little to protect them from the licks of wind that rushed over and past them as they flew. Although none of the crow bites or scratches were very deep, there were a lot of them, and they had begun to ache, especially on his hands and thighs where he gripped the broomstick tightly.  
  
However, the discomfort of it all was paltry in comparison to the warmth and satisfaction he felt when watching the blonde. The situation they were in seemed so surreal. Hermione and Ron were kidnaped by Death Eaters but instead of a large group of Gryffindors tromping off to rescue them, he had Draco, a boy he'd always thought would be his enemy, not only at his side but leading the way.  
  
Although the crows had disappeared from view, the note had said they would be going to Hogsmeade and with the numbers the murder had it shouldn't be too difficult to find them. Draco's flight slowed to bring him next to Harry as they passed the gates to Hogwarts. "We should have a plan, don't you think?" He asked, looking from Harry to their destination with a serious expression.  
  
A plan? Harry pondered Draco's words. Had he ever gone into anything with a plan before? Not really. Not that he could recall. When he landed himself in trouble against Voldemort, one thing had just lead to another and before he knew it he was face to face with the Dark Lord. He looked over at the blonde realizing, by the way Draco scowled at him, that he must look completely bewildered. "A plan?"  
  
"Yes, a plan!" Draco snapped, fidgeting slightly on his broom to get more comfortable before looking forward again. "You can't just run into these things without some sort of plan, you'll be killed!"  
  
"But Draco," Harry began, still watching him. "How can you plan for something like this? We don't know where we're going or what we're walking into."  
  
The blonde looked uncomfortable at this, glaring at Hogsmeade with a frustrated glint in his eye.  
  
"Draco, are you scared?" Harry asked suddenly, his voice soft.  
  
He didn't reply right away as they arrived at Hogsmeade Station. Slowing their brooms to a halt, Draco slowly slipped off and to the ground. "Of course I"m scared." He finally answered. "We're walking right into the hands of You-Know-Who." He looked at Harry briefly and then down High Street, which crawled out before them. "I've been trying to avoid this day for the majority of my life."  
  
"It'll be alright." Harry replied, overcome with the sudden desire to protect him. He took hold of Draco's hand, pulling the blonde close to him as they started down the road. "I'll protect you."  
  
Hogsmeade was vacant. Harry wasn't entirely surprised, with all the Death Eater attacks that summer going out after dark wasn't a good idea. There were, however, a few lights on in windows from the various shops and homes above them.  
  
"I don't see any of the crows," Harry commented as they past Zonko's Joke Shop. They were more than halfway through the city and he hadn't seen a single black feather. What if they couldn't find the birds at all? What if they couldn't follow Lestrange's feeble clues and Rodolphus thought they weren't coming?   
  
Before Harry's thoughts got even more out of control, Draco pointed down a side street that Harry knew led to the Hogs Head. "How about that?" He asked. A short distance away, two crows were fighting over something in the street, pulling it between their beaks. As Harry and Draco got closer they flew away dropping what they held. It was easily recognizable as a red and gold Hogwarts tie.  
  
As Harry picked up the tie, holding it up. A gold Prefects badge was pinned to the middle of it and was circled by a ring of burnt silk. Above it was written the time: 8:02. A Portkey. "What time is it now?" Harry watched the Prefects badge as it glittered a bit sinisterly, he thought, under the half light of the moon.  
  
Draco drew out a pocket watch from his robes, glancing down at the time. "Seven fifty nine."  
  
"Three minutes from now." Harry said slowly and looked over at Draco. He put his thumb on the Prefect's badge and held the tie out towards him. "You touch it too. I don't want to leave you behind."  
  
The blonde nodded slowly and took a step closer to Harry, putting his thumb on the other half of the badge that had been left for him.  
  
"Are you ready?" Harry asked and when Draco shook his head 'no', he slid an arm around the Slytherin's waist, pulling him closer. "I will protect you," Harry repeated and leaned forward to rest their foreheads together. "It's just about the only thing I'm really good at."   
  
"I trust you," Draco said finally, looking down into Harry's eyes. He leaned forward just a bit more, his eyes drifting closed as he brought their mouths together. The kiss was soft and tender and in it, Harry felt Draco's trembling cease. Before it could end, though, they were being pulled along by something just behind their belly button through a tunnel of wind and color.  
  
They were deposited heavily in a location that Harry had only seen in his dreams. The house was old and rich surrounded by an overgrown garden. Although the location was familiar, Harry also knew it was very far away from Hogwarts, and even London, but he couldn't quite put a name to the place. "Where are we?" He asked, keeping hold of Draco's hand as they turned to face the mansion.  
  
Draco eyed the structure with disdain and then looked over at Harry with a brooding hint in his eyes. "This is the Riddle House." He said slowly. "Where You-Know-Who–" But Draco didn't need to finish. Harry remembered everything instantly.  
  
"Then that means he's probably–"  
  
"He's probably not there," Draco finished. "The Dark Lord has to have moved on to other places by now but that doesn't mean Weasley and Granger aren't here. Along with that...that nut."  
  
Harry wished, once he was finally there, looking up at the menacing old house, that he and Draco had come up with some sort of plan beforehand. Just the sight of the mansion coupled with what Harry remembered from his fourteen year old dreams made his skin crawl. "Maybe we should–" he began but before he could finish, the front door to the Riddle House was thrown open.  
  
"Well don't just stand there all day, come in and say hello!" Rodolphus Lestrange was standing in the doorway, the hood of his Death Eater robes pulled down from his head and his bony hands and arms outstretched.  
  
Harry and Draco both reached for their wands but before they could draw them out, two figures had detached themselves from the shadows and the overgrown garden and jabbed the warm ends of their wands against the small of their backs. "Not a good idea." Sad a masculine voice from behind Draco.   
  
When he tried to turn around to see who was speaking he was pushed forward a bit by the end of the wand. "Just keep looking forward." He ordered.  
  
"Here we are again, little baby Potter." Harry's guard was definitely female and Harry didn't have to turn around to see who it was. Bellatrix slid an arm around Harry's throat grinding the tip of her wand against his spine. "You're really not very smart are you?" She purred, her lips near to Harry's ear. He jerked away, his hand, still on his wand, gripping tighter.   
  
Bellatrix laughed out loud at his reaction while beside her, Rabastan started giving orders again. "You can disarm yourselves now. Throw your wands into the bushes, both of you. Do it now."  
  
Neither boy moved.  
  
"Do it!" Rabastan snapped and thrust Draco forward onto his hands and knees on the ground. "Crucio!" The spell whipped from out the end of his wand and Draco hollered in agony, his body twisting into unnatural forms as he convulsed under the sway of the Unforgivable.  
  
On the front stairs, Rodolphus was shrieking with laughter.  
  
Harry's wand was out in a flash but before he could use it, Bellatrix took hold of the thick, switch of wood just above his own fingers. "Nah ah ah." She purred into his ear, shoving her wand into one of Harry's kidneys.  
  
"Gah!" Harry grit his teeth, his back arching away from the wand as pain rippled through his body.  
  
"Drop your wand." Bellatrix ordered in a dark voice. "Neither of you will have to hurt if you'd just–" When Harry threw his wand as far away from him as he could, Bellatrix smiled. "There's a good boy."  
  
The spell on Draco abated and as he lay there panting and wishing to die, Rabastan stooped down to pick up the wand from his hand, tossing it into the garden. "Was that really so difficult?" He asked, picking Draco up by the back of his robes and hauling him to his feet.  
  
"Draco!" Harry tried to pull away from Bellatrix but her grip only tightened. "Draco are you alright? Say something!" He didn't like the way the blonde hung from Rabastan's arms like a rag doll.  
  
"I can't take it any longer!" Rodolphus exclaimed, still giggling in excitement. He stepped away from the front door as Bellatrix and Rabastan dragged the two captives to the Riddle House. Following them inside, he slammed the door behind them and then rushed forward to take Harry from his wife.  
  
"You came! Well, of course you're came, but you're finally here!" Harry glared at Rodolphus. How come he sounded like Harry had come to visit on his own free will? Like they were old friends that hadn't seen each other in a long time. "We're going to have so much fun, Pretty Potter." Rodolphus said gleefully, close to Harry's ear. His hands crept around his waist to grope his chest and then push down over his abdomen and sink beneath the front of his pants. "I'm going to have so much fun with you."  
  
"GET OFF OF ME!" Harry shouted as Lestrange grabbed something he shouldn't have. He drove his elbow backwards, as hard as he could, right into Rodolphus' stomach and felt it connect with soft, yielding flesh.  
  
The Death Eater groaned, his fingers loosening their grip around Harry enough for the Gryffindor to pull himself free. He twisted away from Rodolphus turning to glare at him, raising his fists.  
  
Bellatrix was laughing now as Rodolphus wobbled on one knee on the floor, holding his stomach. Of course, Harry realized a second too late that Rodolphus was smiling too. "You're perfect," He said sounding drunk as he rose to his feet slowly, looming over Harry. "I love it. I love it when they fight back a little bit. That's what your little friends did too. All of you are so perfect."  
  
"Where are they?" Harry shouted, backing away from Rodolphus as he moved a few steps closer. "Where are Ron and Hermione? What did you do to them?"  
  
"Oh them," Rodolphus' smile grew and so did Bellatrix' amused, shrill laughter. "I had to punish them just a little bit. But they're being good right now. Nice and quiet and obedient. Would you like to see them?"  
  
Harry felt his heart race with fear. The way Rodolphus said that, the way he described them, Ron and Hermione–they couldn't be....they couldn't be–"No!" He shouted, clapping his hands up over his ears.  
  
"No, you don't want to see them?" Lestrange asked, staring at Harry a bit stupidly.  
  
"Yes I want to see them!" Harry wailed and didn't even back away as Rodolphus approached and took hold of his wrists.   
  
"I'll take you to them." He said warmly and, twisting Harry's hands and arms behind his back, lead him deeper into the house.  
  
****  
  
When Draco woke up he felt like he'd been thrown off of the top of Gryffindor tower. He felt like pudding inside, like all of his organs had exploded and melted together. He felt like he was slowly dying. He tried to push himself up slowly but found that his arms were frozen to his sides.   
  
"Draco? Draco are you alright?" Draco was aware of Harry's voice dimly in the back of his head and twisted slowly towards it on the floor. He could see the Gryffindor plainly now. His hands were bound together by rope that stretched upwards towards the ceiling were it coiled around a chandelier. Harry was only given enough rope to remain on his tip toes, if he lost his footing he'd be dangling freely. The room they were in was circular and Harry was in the very middle of it.  
  
"W-What?" He asked, his voice a groan. It hurt to talk, his throat was so dry. Draco realized then as he looked down at himself that he was also bound by rope, his hands behind his back, his arms to his sides, his legs and feet together. He couldn't gather the energy to panic though, even looking around like this made him throb. He let his head sink back to the wooden floor.  
  
The door to the room opened but Draco didn't look up as Rodolphus entered, dragging two bodies behind him. Ron and Hermione were bound and gagged but Harry could see from the light in their eyes when they saw him and Draco, still again a few feet away, that they were both alive.  
  
Ron looked terrible, his face bloody and puffy from cuts and bruises where he'd been beaten. The gag on his mouth was already soaked through with blood and from the way he winced at every move, Harry realized probably more than one bone in his body had been broken. Hermione wasn't much better off. She'd been hit too but not beaten as badly as Ron had been. She was missing the vest to her uniform and her shirt was bloodied and torn open. Her skirt was also worse for wear, long angry cuts traveling across and between her thighs.  
  
"Ron! Hermione!" Harry twisted in the ropes that held him, losing his feeble footing and rocking back and forth as he swung.   
  
"It's like a happy reunion!" Lestrange smiled warmly and dropped his cargo in the middle of the floor. Crouching between the two Gryffindor prefects, Lestrange smiled up at Harry. It reminded him of the way Hedwig always brought him back dead mice from her hunting as gifts.  
  
"Let me down." Harry ordered and Lestrange's smile turned to one of amusement. "I want to talk to them! I want to see if they're okay!"  
  
"Well they're alive aren't they? That's good news!" Slowly, Lestrange dragged Hermione and then Ron to lean against the opposite wall so they could face Harry and Draco and see them easily before he yanked down the gags pushed in their mouths.  
  
"Harry!" Hermione was the first to be freed and thus the first to speak. "Are you alright? What happened? What happened to Draco? You shouldn't have come! You shouldn't have come alone! Did you tell anyone before you left? Harry!"  
  
Ron didn't say anything was his gag was removed, but he did lick his bloody lips, twisting his head to the side to wipe his mouth on his shoulder.  
  
Harry was both relieved and horrified. He was glad they were alright, that they were both still alive but the situation they were in was suddenly so grave and helpless. He couldn't think of anything decent to say to Hermione's questions so he just sighed and looked over at Draco.  
  
The blonde had rolled onto his back and was staring up at the ceiling and Harry thought he saw tears in his eyes. He couldn't protect them, Harry realized. He couldn't protect any of them. 


	11. Chapter Eleven: An Ocean of Blood

*Authors Note* This was going to be the last chapter but, while writing it, I decided to split it into two, mostly because it's midnight here and I have to leave town tomorrow. Look forward to the final chapter of Sold! followed by my own synopsis and analysis of the story within the next few days! Thanks for reading and reviewing!  
  
Chapter Eleven  
  
Draco's hands were stiff and clammy, his legs and knees tired and aching. He'd been standing in the same position for nearly an hour while. Although he'd never been in this particular part of the Ministry of Magic before, he didn't seem to have the curiosity to look around and explore. Instead, he maintained his statue like posture, facing forward towards the door his mother had disappeared through, his eyes on the knob as if daring it to turn.  
  
He made for a smart but solemn figure, dressed in his finest clothes and his finest robes, black velvet trimmed in silver. He'd combed his hair, slicking it back neatly into place. Every now and then a group of witches and wizards would pass by. Whenever they did, they always peeked into his room,, peeked at him standing so still and proud, and shook their heads. All of them knew exactly what he was doing here, saying his goodbyes to his doomed, Death Eater father.  
  
Finally, the door Draco had been staring at cracked open and his mother stepped out meekly, dabbing the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief. He scowled, not being able to help himself from doing so. She was dressed all in black as if his father were already dead. "He's asking for you, Draco." She told him and took hold of his shoulders as he came closer. She released a trembling sigh and touched his cheeks, lifted her hands to smooth out his hair, and kissed his forehead. "Be brave," She ordered in a soft but stern voice.  
  
Draco glowered and pulled away from her hands. "I don't need to," he replied in a cool voice, rubbing away the spots on his face that she'd touched with her fingers and lips. "It's not like he's going to Azkaban forever. Just a few days, probably, he told me." He paused in the doorway that would lead him to his father and looked back at Narcissa. "It's a useless hold now, anyway. The Dementors won't guard it." His eyes lashed over her as she turned away from him, lifting her hands to her face and crying into them. "Stupid woman." He muttered under his breath and then stepping into the same room as his father, he closed the door.  
  
Lucius was waiting for him, looking proud even though he was already a prisoner. He stood tall, his shoulders squared, watching Draco like a bug as he closed the door, leaned back against it, and looked up at him. "Come here, boy." Lucius finally spoke, lifting a hand to beckon his son closer.  
  
Obedient, even to the last day, Draco bowed his head slightly and moved closer to his father and his outstretched hand. Lucius watched him as he approached, blinking slowly, and then put his hand on top of his son's head. Draco kept his head bowed as his father touched him, smoothed back his hair and took the side of his face, gently rubbing his thumb over his cheek.   
  
Finally, Draco couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take the silence or the way his father was touching him, so soft and gentle, touches he hadn't received from his father since he was a very small boy. He bit his lower lip, his shoulders trembling. He couldn't start crying now. He was fifteen years old, almost sixteen. He was nearly a man, and men didn't cry.   
  
Lucius seemed to sense the emotion in him and a smile curled his lips. With a short laugh his fingers drifted away and he didn't touch his son anymore.  
  
"How long?" Draco asked, once he trusted his voice to be solid enough to maintain speech. "How long are you going to be gone?"  
  
"For a long time, it seems," Lucius replied, his voice steady. "The Ministry thinks to make an example out of me, I suppose. They are embarrassed by their own inability to see the return of the Dark Lord, embarrassed after the failure of Azkaban. As a second war seems so obvious now, Fudge needs to show wizarding London that he is still strong, still capable. He needs to give them faith in order to control panic and fear. Most importantly he needs to give them revenge for a hundred murdered fathers, mothers, and children."  
  
Draco listened to everything his father said with narrowed eyes. He didn't understand. What was he saying? Was he trying to explain that there would be no escape from Azkaban this time? That all of his fame and wealth and power amounted to nothing the moment it was most needed? "When will you be out?" Draco asked again, this time more firmly.  
  
"Idiot boy." Lucius smiled slowly, his gray gaze locked on Draco's form, memorizing his son's features, words, and sound. Memorizing everything about him.  
  
Draco's hands clenched into tight fists, his glassy nails digging half moons into the soft skin of his palms. Lucius was looking at him like he never expected to see him again! He opened his mouth to say something but snapped it shut a second later, rage and anger boiling up on his insides like a kettle about to explode. "It's all Potter's fault!" He seethed suddenly, his voice hot and angry as it slithered past his clenched teeth. "I'm going to make him pay for this! I'm going to make him wish he were never born! You'll see, father!" His head snapped up to look Lucius directly in the eye but all he was greeted with was the back of his father's hand.  
  
As he was hit, the smaller blonde clapped both of his hands over the side of his face. The salt from his fingers bit into the split in his lip left by his father's unforgiving knuckles. Pain and outrage pricked at the corners of his eyes. In all of his fifteen years his father had never hit him before, not ever!  
  
"I've told you, Draco," Lucius began, his mouth and eyes cold and unforgiving in a way Draco knew was impossible to melt. "Over and over I've instructed and guided and advised you but don't seem to listen. I have told you everything that I can, there is nothing left for me to say to you. I won't be there from now on for you to complain and whine to. From now on, you must think and act for yourself. From now on, you are alone."  
  
There wasn't anything left to say between them after that. Draco stood his ground, held his face, and watched his father. Both of them remained silent until an Auror came to lead Lucius Malfoy away, away from his family, his future, his freedom.  
  
****  
  
The only way Harry knew he still had hands was to stretch his head back and follow the line of his arms and to the appendages at their ends. Of course, his hands didn't even look like hands anymore. His nimble seeker's fingers were thick and swollen, purple with trapped blood, numb and cold. He wasn't sure how long he'd been hanging there in the center of the room, but it felt like forever.  
  
Hermione and Ron were quiet against the wall, the girl with her head tilted against his best friend's shoulder looking peaceful in her sleep, detached from the horror of her waking surroundings. Ron also had his eyes closed but Harry knew he wasn't asleep.  
  
He wanted to say something to them, offer some words of encouragment or bravery to keep their spirits up but everything he could think of sounded phoney and lame, like something he'd seen at the end of some tacky romantic-comedy on television. He hoped they could be happy together after all of this was over, though. Sooner or later, hopefully sooner, all of this would end one way or another. At its denouement, more than anything, Harry wanted to see his two best friends walk away hand in hand.  
  
At the thought of escaping with the one you cared about, Harry's eyes rolled towards Draco. Green met gray. Draco had woken up some time before, managed to sit up slowly and leaned his back against the wall. Harry was a bit startled to discover that Draco had been watching him, but was pleased none the less.  
  
"It's alright, Harry," Draco said slowly. Harry nodded slowly, glad to be able to take some amount of relief from those words, spoken so calmly, even if there was nothing behind them. "It'll all be over soon."   
  
"What do you mean," Harry asked. Against the wall, Ron lifted his head and looked over towards Draco soundlessly. "Do you have a plan?"  
  
Reluctant at first, slowly Draco began to nod. "I have a plan," He said finally and a smile crept over his face, one Harry no longer thought of as snide or mean. "If you can trust me, if you can just hold on, I have a plan."  
  
It suddenly didn't matter that he couldn't feel his fingers anymore, hope surged through Harry's body and he nodded quickly. "I trust y-" He began, but before he could finish a searing pain ripped through Harry's body. It originated from a white-hot spot on his forehead and shot out like electricity to every extremity in his body, even into his dead feeling hands.  
  
"Harry, what's wrong?" Ron asked loudly, sitting up straight, tense. The motion upset Hermione who also gasped, starting awake, her eyes darting around quickly.   
  
"What's going on?" She asked in a shaking voice.  
  
"It's Voldemort!" Harry gasped, gritting his teeth. He'd never felt his scar throb this badly before, and his mind was swimming with murky images of a ring of Death Eaters, Lucius Malfoy, and Roldolphus Lestrange happily bouncing around Voldemort babbling about how he'd captured Harry Potter. "He's coming!" Harry gulped out. "He's coming here, right now! He's so close!"  
  
When the door swung open, Ron leaned away from it and into Hermione as if trying to block her from sight. Harry couldn't see anything, his world twisting and spinning from the pain of his scar. When had Voldemort become this strong? "Bring me my gift." An oily voice said that Harry recognized immediatly.   
  
As the pain in his head began to fizzle and drift away, Harry turned his groggy eyes towards the trio of dark wizards who entered. Voldemort, naturally. He was flanked by a very excited Rodolphus Lestrange, and a man that made Harry's insides twitch with repulsion and anger. Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"F-Father!" Draco had seen him too, and gasped, his eyes wide as he stared at the older version of himself. Lucius didn't say anything though and remained behind the others in the doorway. His eyes flickered briefly to his son and then away again.  
  
Harry could tell Lucius been in Azkaban, he could see it in his eyes. He'd seen it in Hagrid's eyes before, and Sirius' after that. "Lucius, collect your son." Voldemort ordered and only then did he move forward, around the Dark Lord and Lestrange like a puppy afraid of being hit.   
  
Removing his wand, Lucius severed the ropes that bound his son and then pulled Draco to his feet. "Come along now," he said in a voice that Draco didn't recognize. "Don't say anything." Lucius touched a finger to his lips to signal quiet before leading the way back to Voldemort's side.  
  
Draco followed, keeping his head down. As he past Harry, The Gryffindor made a small, desperate noise, his green eyes intense and willing Draco to turn around, just to turn around and look at him. He did, though slowly, and looked up at the suspended boy. When he looked at him, Harry saw that his eyes were full of fear. Draco stopped walking.  
  
"Lucius," Voldemort complained quietly. "My time is precious."  
  
Lucius jumped at the admonishment and turned back to Draco, grabbing his son by the arm and pulling him away. "Wait!" Draco snapped and ripped his arm back. "Just wait one bleeding second!" He scurried away from Lucius, who tried rather unsuccessfully to grab him again, and back to Harry.   
  
With shaking white hands, Draco lifted his fingers to touch the other boy's cheeks. Although his touch was cold like ice, Draco's lips, as they pushed against Harry's, were still warm and alive.  
  
"Hey! Hey, hey now!" Ron shouted loudly, staring at the pair as if the world were ending and they had caused it.  
  
Draco didn't care, though. He drifted back from Harry slowly and into his father's arms. Lucius pulled Draco away, dragging his son away from Harry and towards the door. "Trust me," Draco protested as he was pulled away. "Harry, please trust me!" Before he could say anything else, Lucius had pulled him from the room and they disappeared down the hall.  
  
"Now what to do with you," There was a certain amount of glee in Voldemort's voice that Harry knew was directed towards him. "Finally I have you, here you are."  
  
"Oh! Oh!" Lestrange began to hop up and down next to the Dark Lord.  
  
"I suppose," Voldemort continued as if he didn't see his disciple, a gray hand shaking free of the dark sleeves of his robes. Harry saw, with no small amount of fear, the long, dark wand he held clutched in his fingers. He knew what waited for him at the end of that instrument of death.  
  
"Oh! Oh!" Lestrange continued dancing around his master.  
  
Twirling his wand methodically in his fingers, Voldemort approached his elusive captive and Harry glared at him, silent and infuriated. "I've seen that look before," the Dark Lord began and lifted his wand to push Harry's unruly hair aside and reveal his scar. "Your father had the same look when he faced me. He had so much to protect. His wife. His child. His precious friends." The tip of his wand traced the zig zag line on Harry's forehead, making him lean away. "No matter what was behind him though, couldn't keep him from dying just like the rest of them. He died so easily. It was as if he were simply giving up his life to me. Maybe it's what he wanted, after all."  
  
"Shut up!" Harry roared suddenly, and from his hanging position, he swung back to kick Voldemort as hard as he could. He'd make that snake shut up!  
  
The effort was short lived and Voldemort batted him away like he would a fly. "Crucio," he hissed. Harry felt like he was being torn in half. Agony blinded his eyes, even with his glasses, and his ears filled with gut wrenching screams that he realized, in shock and horror, were his own.  
  
"Oh! Oh!" Lestrange wrapped his arms around Harry's twitching body, lending his weight to the suspended prisoner. Although Harry couldn't feel it through the thunderous pain of the curse, his wrists broke under the pressure. "Please can I have him? Please?" Lestrange shouted above Harry's screams.  
  
As quickly as it came, the curse was released. Harry could still feel it rippling through his body, making him twist and jerk. "Please can I have him," Lestrange moaned.  
  
Voldemort was quiet for some time, watching with a pleased smile as the last vestiges of Crucio rolled through his nemisis' body, tapping the end of his wand lightly against his chin. "Alright, Lestrange," he said finally in a low, silky voice. "As a reward for serving me so loyally, for finally bringing me what no one before could bring, I'll allow you to have him. Do all your damage today, however. At sunset tomorrow, he will be murdered."  
  
"Thank you, my lord!" Rodolphus exclaimed and threw himself on the ground, bowing so low that his forehead touched the ground. He remained like that even after Voldemort had left.  
  
"Roddie," Rabastan drawled from the doorframe sometime later. "He's gone, you can get up now."   
  
"Don't call me that!" Rodolphus whined, snapping his head up with a glare at his brother. "I told you a million times never to call me that!"   
  
Bellatrix, who had her arms locked around Rabastan's waist, giggled softly at her husband, prostrate on the ground. "My idiot husband. He wishes, someday, the pleasure of suckling our Lord's toes, I think."  
  
Rodolphus looked sulky as he got to his feet. "Say whatever you want," he muttered. "I have what I want. The Dark Lord gave me exactly what I want."  
  
"Of course he did, heart of my heart." Bellatrix said slowly, drawing slow circles over Rabastan's abdomen. "Because you're such a good boy."  
  
Rodolphus watched his wife as she stroked his brother and then marched forward and grabbed her around the wrist, pulling her away. "What are you doing with him?" He demanded in a harsh voice.  
  
Bellatrix laughed again as she was pulled around. "Relax, brother," Rabastan answered for her as he leaned against the doorframe. "I only had an itch."  
  
"You're so silly, my darling husband." Bellatrix pulled her grip from Rodolphus' hand and slapped him across the face. Rodolphus looked stunned, but before he could say anything, she took hold his jaw and drew him close. "But I'm so very proud of you."  
  
"O-oh?" Rodolphus stammered, a quirky smile twisting the corners of his lips. He looked dazed. Lovesick.  
  
"Of course I am, heart of my heart." She purred and closed her eyes, kissing him deeply. Rodolphus was so stunned, he hardly had time to react before she drew back from him again. "I've never been more proud of you." Bellatrix continued, stroking his cheeks and then down to his chest. "I want you to have all the fun with him that you can. You deserve it!"  
  
Rodolphus was smiling broadly now and he lunged at her to wrap his arms around her waist and hug her but she skirted out of his grasp and away. "Now, darling," she teased as Rabastan caught her, resting his hands firmly on her hips. "You know how I despise public displays of affection." She batted her eyelashes at him as she continued, "I'm afraid everyone would laugh at me if they saw me blush just because you touched me. I'm so in love with you."  
  
"I understand!" Rodolphus replied instantly, glowing from head to toe.  
  
"Say, dear husband." Bellatrix continued a moment later and stepped forward towards him. "Since you have your pet, do you think that you could give the other two to us? Rabastan and I would like to have some fun also."  
  
Rodolphus' icy eyes turned towards Ron and Hermione, leaning against the wall. Hermione was scared, he thought he saw tears in her eyes, and Ron had risen slightly on his knee as if he were going to defend her. "I really wanted them to watch," he said finally.  
  
"Please, Rodolphus?" Bellatrix continued, lacing her fingers together in front of her as she moved close again, her voice pouting. "Can we have them?"  
  
All it took was another bat of her dark lashes before Rodolphus gave in entirely. "Of course you can have them! My most precious wife-" He marched over towards Ron and Hermione and grabbed the latter by her hair, pushing her towards his brother and wife. "Take her, as my gift to you, Rabastan. And you, Bella," He pitched Ron in her direction. "You can have this boy. Please enjoy them as I'll enjoy my own!"  
  
Hermione began to cry as Rabastan caught her and Ron collapsed when Bellatrix punched him in the nose. Harry watched them, silently hanging. He had to trust Draco, he knew. Draco was the only one who could get them out of this. His friends would be alright, he told himself, looking away as they were dragged from the room, Hermione screaming his name.  
  
Please, Draco, he pleaded in his mind. Please hurry up.  
  
****  
  
"Boy, just what were you doing?" By the time Draco and his father had reached their destination, a room that had at one time been a study, Lucius was riled and bad tempered. "Kissing that boy! You kissed that boy! You kissed a boy! You kissed Harry Potter!"  
  
"I'm quite aware of this," Draco said icily. "I was there, if you don't recall."  
  
Lucius' hand struck Draco harshly across the face, flinging his head to the side and breaking skin. There had never been abuse like this in his family. Not until Lucius had been sent to Azkaban and now twice, twice his father had spilled his blood! "You think you can talk back to me, boy? I am your father, or have you forgotten?"  
  
"It's difficult to forget the largest source of shame in my life, father." Draco enunciated the last word of his sentence bloodily as he straightened, wiping across his split lip with a hand and sending a knife like glare into the man before him.  
  
"Brat," Lucius hissed and grabbed Draco by the hair. He didn't struggle as his father hit him again, he only wiped his mouth again, straightened, and glared. This seemed to spur Lucius on and he hit Draco again and again and again until he fell under the quick repetition of blows.  
  
Draco was panting as he sat on the ground, holding himself up with his hands. Blood drooled from his mouth and dripped to the floor and he imagined a few of his teeth were loose. However, it wasn't something he couldn't repair with a few simple spells, he knew. He looked up at his father who was also breathing heavily, looking at his hand as if it were something possessed and detached from his body. Draco smiled.  
  
"You look old, father." He said slowly pushing himself to his feet and painfully wiping blood away from his mouth with his sleeve. "Azkaban wasn't very kind to you."  
  
"No," Lucius said, his voice quiet and afraid as he looked past his gnarled hands at his son and his bleeding mouth. "No it wasn't." He reached out for Draco again and took hold of him when the boy shied away. Reaching into his pocket, Lucius withdrew a handkerchief and while holding Draco firmly by the back of his head, he began to dab at the cuts he'd left on his mouth. "Tell me about Narcissa. You've seen your mother, haven't you?"  
  
"She's a loon." Draco replied waspishly and felt good at the sick look that jolted across his father's face, as if he'd been struck by lightening. "She's a complete babbling lunatic."  
  
"I see," Lucius said quietly and lowered the now red-spotted handkerchief to his side. Draco's mouth kept bleeding.  
  
Draco didn't need his father's gentle administrations though. He turned away from him, holding the sleeve of his robes to his mouth to wait out the leaking blood. "You're really pathetic, do you know that?" He asked, casting a furtive look at his once proud, head of house.  
  
Lucius didn't say anything, his distant eyes searching the handkerchief in his hand as if looking for some sort of hidden clue or meaning in the blooming, poppy like stains on the folds of white silk.  
  
"You've told me so much, father." Draco leaned smugly against the wall of the room next to the door, his arms folded over his chest as the bleeding finally lessened and ceased. "You used to give me so much advice, so many lectures, so many instructions on how to live and act, how to handle every situation I presented you with. You kept telling me the same thing over and over and over. You didn't think I retained anything of it. You didn't even think I listened."  
  
Finally, Lucius tossed the handkerchief to the ground, looking up at his son.  
  
"But I was listening," Draco persisted. "I listened to and absorbed every word you ever told me. I knew all of your speeches by heart, I used to recite them to myself at school when I wasn't sure what I should do next, if you can believe it." The younger Malfoy laughed quietly, his thoughts amusing him as he watched his father's bewildered expression. "Although I think the best piece of advice you ever gave me was right before they hauled you off to Azkaban. Do you remember what you told me back then, father?"   
  
"No." Lucius admitted in a quiet, defeated voice. He seemed to know exaclty where this conversation was headed.  
  
"Well isn't that ironic." Draco rolled his eyes with a smirk and slowly shook his head. "Allow me to remind you. You retired yourself from your position as my fountain of knowledge. You told me from then on that I must learn to think for myself." Lucius nodded slowly. "So that's what I did," Draco continued briskly. "I learned to think for myself. Do you want to know what I've decided?"  
  
Lucius sighed, bowing his head. He lifted a hand to catch his forehead, rubbing against his white skin slowly. "What did you decide, Dragon?"  
  
"I decided that you were a fool." He said crisply, delighted at the response of anger he saw flickering in his father's eyes. "I decided that if I listened to all of your advice, if I did everything that you told me to, I would end up exactly like you are: a poor, pathetic bastard, a stepping stone, a groveling idiot with a future of zero. Whereas that may be all that you hope to gain out of life, father, my aims are much higher. I refuse to be a mindless, bumbling servant of the Dark Lord. Me, I've decided that I'm going to make something out of myself."  
  
Lucius sat down heavily on the floor and Draco sighed, walking towards him. He crouched in front of his father and took his face in his hands, lifting his head. The smile he sent down to the wasted figure held in his grip was one of mock sympathy and pity. "You poor man," Draco sighed outwardly. "But you should be proud of me." He leaned forward and slowly put his mouth to his father's. The kiss was brief and soft and tainted with Draco's coppery life. "Your only boy is going to be a big success! Tomorrow, father, the sun will rise to me." 


	12. Chapter Twelve: Sold! Reprise

Chapter Twelve  
  
Harry wasn't aware of how many hours had passed since he'd been left alone in the circular room with Rodolphus Lestrange. In the beginning, he had fought. He had kicked, twisted, and bit. He had done everything he could to get away, but the more he struggled the more Lestrange seemed to be enjoying himself. The sound of Hermione and Ron's torture, it had to be torture the way they screamed, fed his defiance. No matter the pain or humiliation, he knew he had to bear it as long as Ron and Hermione made noise. As long as he could hear them, he knew they still needed him.  
  
It was until after their sounds were silent that he began to worry, that he began to loose hope. He glared hatred at the ceiling as Lestrange touched and defiled him. There was nothing he could do to protect his body, he soon realized, but as long as he held onto his spirit, he had still won. He tried to be wooden, he tried to be emotionless, he tried to escape from his terrible present. For his part, Rodolphus didn't seem to need Harry's participation to enjoy himself.  
  
He had stripped Harry nude, torn off his clothes with a combination of charms, fingers, and teeth. He'd abused and debauched the hanging boy until he bled. When Lestrange felt he had accomplished everything he wanted while Harry hung, he reached up above the boy and cut the rope that hung him from the chandelier and let him fall to the ground with a limp thud.  
  
"How do you feel?" Rodolphus asked as he crouched beside his captive, tilting his head to the side as his icy eyes drifted over the other's form.  
  
Harry only groaned in response, pushing his face into the cold floor. He hadn't though it was possible, but being let down felt worse than when he had been suspended. As blood seeped slowly from his hands, it leaked out the cuts the ropes had left on his wrists rapidly, soaking the braided threads completely through. As feeling returned to his hands and arms it felt like needles were being shoved entirely through his appendages and into the floor beneath him.  
  
"You're so beautiful now," Lestrange purred in an affectionate voice and rolled Harry's body onto it's back. Crawling on top of him, he perched on his captive's hips, looking down at him. "You're all red and blue and purple," Rodolphus continued to purr and leaned over him, biting Harry's already mauled lower lip and then down a trail of hickies to a mess of pulverized blue and purple skin, slick with blood from biting, no, chewing!  
  
"Get off of me." Harry whimpered in a feverish voice and pushed at Lestrange weakly with his bound arms. "Just stop and give me a break, please!"  
  
Lestrange laughed softly against him and drew his arms around Harry's torso, pulling him up and against his body. "What a funny little boy," he hugged Harry tightly, rocking him slightly back and forth. "I know what you'd like. I know what would make you happy. Do you want to be happy?" Tilting Harry's back to look up at him, Lestrange spoke softly, his lips trembling with the force of his smile.  
  
He knew Rodolphus was waiting for some sort of response from him before continuing, but Harry was content to not say anything for as long as possible. Last time Rodolphus had asked him this very same question he'd done something so vile Harry didn't want to recall, but it had ended with long, drooling rivers of blood slowly dripping licking down his thighs. "No," Harry groaned finally when he felt the Death Eater reach behind him and begin to finger cut and raw skin.  
  
"Yes you do!" Rodolphus exclaimed happily and tossed Harry onto the ground. Reaching over him, he picked up a slender knife, the blade and handle already slick and sticky with dried and drying blood.   
  
"No, no, no! No I don't!" Even though he knew it made Rodolphus happy, Harry couldn't help but beg at the sight of that knife. Tears prickled in the corners of his eyes but he was too exhausted to cry so he twisted beneath the stronger man, twisted away from the familiar blade.   
  
"Yes, yes, yes! Yes you do!" Lestrange grinned and then slid the knife between the ropes that held Harry's hands, only cutting his palms a tiny bit before he severed the rope into pieces. Harry stared at Lestrange in shock as his hands fell woodenly to the ground, apart and on either side of his body. This man was letting him go?   
  
"We're going to play a fun, fun game!" Lestrange smiled and pressed the knife against Harry's chest horizontally before leaving it there and getting to his feet. "You're the captive and I'm your evil jailer! You have to try and get out! If you can win, you escape but if you loose, well, the evil jailer will just have to punish his naughty prisoner.  
  
Harry gulped, looking up at Lestrange from the ground. He tried to lift his arms to take the knife but they felt like they'd been cemented to the ground. If he could just get that knife, well, this might be a game he'd actually want to participate in.  
  
Lestrange's eager smile slowly began to fade when Harry didn't grab the knife right away and jump up to attack him with it. "Don't you want to play," he asked.  
  
"Just a second," Harry protested quickly. This opportunity, Rodolphus had to be crazy to give it to him, but he couldn't pass it up. Finally he lifted a heavy, dead feeling arm on his chest. His fingers felt the handle of the knife but actually curling them around it was another story entirely.  
  
"Oh I see," Rodolphus' sunset of a smile melted into something more sinister as he knelt down over Harry again. "You started out so afraid of me, so afraid of this and what I was doing, but you eventually got used to it, didn't you? You actually started to like it!"  
  
Green eyes went wide. Was he serious? From the way Lestrange was crawling slowly up the length of his body Harry realized that he was. "No, no, just give me a second," he pleaded.  
  
"It's alright, pretty Potter," Rodolphus purred at he bent to kiss Harry's stomach and then bit a worn and red spot on his collar. "You can still pretend to fight, really I think it's much more exciting when my partner's unwilling."  
  
Lestrange was almost completely on top of him again. With his eyes closed, Harry was only able to feel his hot, sticky breath and his blood-wet hand creeping down between his thighs to wrap crudely around him. Not again. His insides screamed, twisted, tightened, rebelled. Not again!  
  
As Rodolphus squeezed the handful of Harry he now possessed, between their chests Harry's stubborn fingers finally curled around the slippery weapon. "Get OFF!" Harry shouted and turned the point of the serrated blade against Lestrange's body and pushed. He felt the metal sink past muscle and skin, a sickening, cutting feeling.   
  
His captor stared down at him, his eyes round and moments later, a wet warmth spread over Harry's own chest as the other bled. Then, even more slowly than time now seemed to pass, Lestrange pushed himself up, the hilt of the knife protruding from his chest. "Oh pretty pet Potter," Haryr realized, as he stared at the blood that leaked around the weapon, that Rodolphus was laughing.  
  
Rolling off of Harry's body, Lestrange sat back, lifting his hand to curl around the knife and pull it out of his chest with a sickening, slick sound. His smile hadn't faded and for once, it reached into his eyes, now alive with genuine pleasure. "Our blood's mingled now," Lestrange purred, lifting the knife and twirling it over the back of his hand methodically like Voldemort had done with his wand. "I can feel yours in mine." The blade of the knife was lifted to Lestrange's mouth. As he licked the length of it, the edges of the weapon tore into his tongue and issued more of what the Death Eater tried to clean away.  
  
Harry stared, disbelief washing over him. He was enjoying this still, even stabbed and cut Rodolphus was enjoying himself! Finally, sense smacked him in the back of the head and Harry twisted around, forced his tired and aching body into action, on it's feet, and dove towards the door.  
  
His actions made Rodolphus howl in delight and as Harry's shoulder collided with his exit, the knife Lestrange had been licking dug quivering into the wood just above the handle. He didn't stop to ponder it as he tore the door open and dove into the dark hallway beyond.  
  
Lestrange was after him, Harry didn't have to look back to know. Although he didn't want to believe it, he was beginning to think that maybe the Death Eater was actually allowing him to stay just a step or two ahead.  
  
He stumbled onward anyway, grabbing onto the walls for support and leaving long, smeared hand prints of blood behind him. He had to get away. He had to get his wand and get help, he had to save Ron and Hermione and Draco. He had to do so many things!  
  
Tripping over his own uncooperative feet Harry pitched head first down a long flight of stairs. He could hear Lestrange laughing at him as he tumbled head over heals, banging his head and shins and shoulders against the wooden stairs.  
  
He landed with a thud on his back, his glasses skittering away and forcing his world into blurred obscurity. He felt like he couldn't breathe, like a very heavy weight was sitting on his chest and in front of his damaged vision, bright flashes and stars danced. "Here I come, pretty Potter!" Lestrange called ominously.  
  
He sucked in a burning, thick breath rolling onto his hands and knees on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. Don't think about Lestrange, he told himself. Don't concentrate on his laughter, his jibes, the slow sounds of his footfalls as they approached, descending one step at a time. Just pick yourself up. That's right, Harry. One hand, then the other. On your knees now. Push up. One. Two. Three!   
  
Harry shoved himself up onto his wavering knees, swayed slightly in place to regain his balance, and then lurched forward. He could see a door knob ahead of him, a brass smudge, an exit. He groaned again as he collided with his escape, numb, stupid fingers sliding stupidly over the handle as he grasped it.   
  
The Gryffindor realized then, with a quick wash of panicked horror, that he couldn't get the door open. His hands were too wet with blood. Falling onto his knees he wrapped all of his fingers around the doorknob, pressing into it tightly with his fingertips and began to turn it. Nice and slow. He could still hear Lestrange coming down the stairs, he still had some time.  
  
Finally, Harry was greeted by a welcomed rush of cold air and the thick smell of flowers from the overgrown garden that surrounded the Riddle house. He toppled outside, crawled down the front porch on his hands and knees and into the front yard. "Accio wand!" He hissed into the darkness, holding his hand out as he scrambled towards the front gate. "Accio wand!"   
  
The only thing that came, however, was Lestrange. As soon as the door had opened he had ran down the rest of the stairs. The amused look had faded from his face replaced by one of determined fury as he ran through the parlor, out the front door and off the porch. He tackled Harry with a jump.  
  
The pair of them rolled in the dirt and the grass, Harry crying out in surprise and hurt as grime and rocks pushed into his cuts and gashes. They landed heavily in the grass, Rodolphus on top of his captive. He was panting heavily even though he hadn't worked that hard, probably because of the now freely bleeding hole in his chest.  
  
Rodolphus didn't pay his wounds any mind as he shoved Harry meanly against the unyielding ground. "I see. You just wanted to do it outside is that it?" Lestrange's voice was an enraged hiss and Harry yelped as Rodolphus firmly gripped his hips, pulling them off the ground. "Cry all you want," the Death Eater mocked, pushing Harry's face into the dirt with a hand on the back of his head. "No one is going to come and save you." With that, he pushed himself deeply inside the other boy and Harry, feeling like he was being torn in half all over again, screamed into the grass.  
  
****  
  
Harry was cold. He felt like ice. Even though he was no longer hanging from the ceiling, even though Lestrange had finally left him alone, he couldn't stop shivering. He lay curled up in the center of the room beneath the scraps of his robes, half asleep and half afraid he was freezing to death.  
  
When he'd passed out for the third time, Rodolphus had dragged him back inside, let him faint once more, before he gave up and left him alone locked in the copper-smelling circular room. Since then, hours ago, he's wove in an out of sleep. Opening his eyes, Harry burrowed deeper down beneath the meager wrappings of his torn cloak and shivered.  
  
He hadn't seen Draco since Lucius had dragged him from the room. It seemed so long ago, like so much had happened since then, that he couldn't even dredge up the memory of how it felt to have the other's lips against his own. It seemed like a far and distant past when he'd been in Draco's arms on the roof of the astronomy tower. He hoped that Draco was alright, somewhere. He hoped he hadn't given up hope and was fighting as much as he himself was trying to fight, as much as he'd heard Ron and Hermione fight.  
  
When sunlight began to ooze through the warped panes of window glass, Harry rolled onto his side to watch it rise. According to Voldemort, this would be the very last he'd see. As the door creaked open, Harry felt dread well up in his chest and he slowly pushed himself up, ready to fight until the bitter end.  
  
He didn't see Voldemort in the doorway though, wand brandished, ready to finally murder him. He didn't see Lestrange still smiling that bone chilling smile. He didn't see Bellatrix or Rabastan come back to toss the wasted bodies of his two best friends at him. He saw only Draco.  
  
Even though Harry was missing his glasses and the other boy was just a blur, he looked smaller and paler than ever, wrapped in impossibly black robes. "There you are, Potter," Draco slid quickly into the room, failing to shut the door as he strode forward towards him. "Right where I left you. Right as I left you."  
  
"Draco!" Harry felt his dread replaced by thick, hot relief. He wanted to shout in excitement, he wanted to wrap his arms around Draco and hold him forever. He wanted to finally relax, finally be saved and free. He wanted to hold onto him until he made everything, every last cut and scrape and hurt disappear. He was sure that Draco, and Draco alone, could do it for him. "You're finally here. Are you alright, what happened to you?" Harry pushed himself up, with the blonde's help, and gripped Draco's forearms, his fingers trembling. "What's your plan to escape?"  
  
Draco smiled at him and lifted the hood of his robes, pulling them over his head.  
  
Harry stared at him blankly. "You want to dress up like Death Eaters and escape? Draco," Harry tried to sound as delicate as possible as he spoke. "I don't think that's going to work. There are only three of them here anyway, they'd know it if four more suddenly showed up."  
  
He watched as Draco's smile grew and he shook his head slowly, laughing. "A true idiot until the end, aren't you, Potter?" Draco asked, reaching over to pat the side of Harry's face lightly. "I'm not playing dress up."  
  
"What?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowing and a shiver running up his spine. He didn't like to look at Draco dressed up like that, with that hood over his head. He looked just like his father. "What does that mean? You're not playing dress up? I'm not playing either, Draco! We need to get out of here. We need to find Ron and Hermione and leave!"  
  
Draco laughed again as he shook Harry's hands off of his arms. He turned away from him and walked slowly back towards the door, pushing it closed with a gentle click. "Do you remember what the Dark Lord said last night? About sunset?" Although Harry couldn't see Draco's eyes, he felt the sharp, gray gaze sink into him like teeth.  
  
"He-He said that at sunset he'd come to kill me." Harry replied steadily. Why was Draco wasting time like this? Why was he standing around in those robes just talking to him! Didn't he know they had to escape? That probably, any minute, the Death Eaters would come back?  
  
"Not exactly." Leaving the door, Draco came closer, stopping a few feet away in front of Harry. He looked down at him from beneath his hooded robes. "He said someone would come to kill you. But that's beside the point because the plans have been pushed up a little bit."  
  
"P-pushed up?" A sudden idea began to sink into Harry's head. A terrible, gut-wrenching idea. He didn't want to entertain the possibility of it but when Draco reached into the folds of his soft-looking black robes and drew out a wand, Harry knew it was true. "Where did you get that," he asked, sitting back as he looked up at his supposed lover. His supposed changed man.  
  
"I borrowed it," Draco replied briskly and lifted the instrument, his robes sliding free from his forearm to reveal a freshly burned impression of a skull, laced with a snake's coils. "I borrowed it from my Lord. To prove my devotion to him."  
  
Harry leaned back away from the wand, didn't dare breathe as he stared at it, stared at the boy, stared at his arm. "S-so that's your p-plan huh?" He asked in a quivering voice. "T-to pretend t-to be one of them and...and..."  
  
Draco tilted his head to the side, lifting a hand to guide the hood of his cloak back onto his shoulders. "Just admit it, Potter. You know exactly what's going on, so just say it."  
  
"You...you.." Harry began and then closed his eyes tightly, looking again. "No! It's not true!"  
  
"Don't be daft." Draco hissed blandly, stepping forward. He lifted a foot and placed it firmly on Harry's chest, shoving him onto his back.  
  
The Gryffindor toppled expectedly, curling his hands around Draco's heel and looking up at him, unwilling to admit the sickening truth. Unwilling to admit that Draco had given in to the threat of his father, of Voldemort. That he had given into his fate. "Why couldn't you fight," Harry asked, his voice sounding as dead as he felt.  
  
Draco looked down at him and then sighed, and with an annoyed roll of his eyes he lowered to sit astride the other boy, leaning over him. "I don't know, maybe you really don't understand. Let me explain it for you anyway. Do you remember what I said to you at the end of fifth year?" At the crushed look on Harry's face, the blonde shook his head and continued. "'You're going to pay', I said. 'I'm going to make you pay for what you've done to my father'. That was a promise, not just an idle, hot-headed threat. I warned you. I told you. You were the one stupid enough to believe I wasn't a danger. You were so used to pushing me around all through school you didn't think I could do it, did you? You didn't think Draco Malfoy stood a chance against the omnipotent Harry Potter, the glorious Boy Who Lived."  
  
"But you said you wanted to change," Harry heard himself protest, grasping the last vestiges of hope he had. "You said you wanted to be different. I thought–"  
  
"I am different, Potter!" Draco snapped and lifting his wand, jabbed it threateningly against Harry's forehead. "I'm nothing like my parents. I'm not a babbling lunatic rotting away in Azkaban like my mother, sacrificing myself for something as stupid as love. I'm not a coward, groveling on my hands and knees, simpering for approval at You-Know-Who's feet like some lap dog like my father. Most of all, I'm not a stupidly brave, blind fool walking right into such an obvious trap to save a useless mudblood and pauper, believing that a five years sworn enemy finally had my back!"  
  
"I don't understand," Harry droned on, reaching up to touch Draco's face. The blonde twisted away and glared down at him. "How can you choose this for yourself? How can you make such a stupid decision."  
  
"'How can you make such a stupid decision' wonders the doomed man, cut and bleeding and broken on the floor. I'm not the one who's going to die at the hands of someone I've come to care about." Slowly pushing himself up, Draco shook free of the filth he'd picked up from Harry while sitting on him and glared down at his shocked and disbelieving rival.  
  
"But, Draco!" Harry looked up at him. When Draco stood he couldn't make out his features so well, he felt like he was dying already, reaching his hands up to him. "You...we....on the astronomy tower..."  
  
"That," Draco began, his voice sharp and laced with poison. "That was easily the most disgusting thing I've ever had to do. I'm not an idiot, Potter, when you'd kissed me at Grimmauld Place, when I knew you," here, Draco sounded particularly disgusted, "wanted me...like that, I knew it was something I had to exploit. That was your first time, wasn't it? It endeared me to you, didn't it? To believe that I cared about you enough to be that close to you was a large step. To give yourself to me, let me be inside of you, possess you in a way that nobody ever had before was the highest degree of trust you could put in me. I had to have that. I had to exploit that. I had to take that from you and give that one sweet memory to you just so I could take it away, right here, right now."  
  
Harry didn't realize he was crying until he tasted his tears on his mouth. "And...and on the t-train?" He stammered, gulping a painful mouthful of air.  
  
"To win over your friends." Draco watched the Golden Boy melt at his feet, a superior smile twisting the corners of his mouth. "No matter how much you trusted me, with their constant nagging you'd always wonder...if maybe they weren't right. You should have listened to them, Potter. For once Weasley wasn't as much of an idiot as usual."  
  
"But how...how could you...when did..how–" Harry grasped at a hundred things to say but couldn't finish a single sentence.  
  
Draco, however, seemed to be waiting for just that. "After I saw my mother in Azkaban I knew what I had to do, Potter. That night after the attack in Diagon Alley, when we met in the drawing room, I really wasn't writing to my parents. Honestly. Just like I said I wasn't. I asked Mrs. Black for advice, she was a proud woman with many Death Eater relatives. She helped me contact the right people, letting my interest in You-Know-Who trickle through the lines of communication. I told them I had access to you, had a grip in you, that I could give you to them as revenge for what you'd done to my family. And so my plan began.  
  
"I worked with the Lestrange brothers and Bellatrix secretly. We planned this together. When it would be best to attack you, how to lure you to this house, we planned it all in advance. That scene on the Express, how they escaped, don't you think that was a bit too big of a coincidence? We used it as a ploy to get all of you to trust me. When I hexed Rabastan it was all fake, a farce and when we ran to save you from his brother, he snuck away. When we went back to check on him, he took his brother and his brother's wife and left. And all the time I got closer and closer to you, separating myself from my house, my past, just to be more believable. . While we were at the astronomy tower fucking, I had sent out an owl in advance to Weasley and Granger to lure them out to the Pitch where Rodolphus was waiting for them.   
  
"Of course I made sure we had finished up in enough time for you to witness their abduction. I was there, right next to you to make sure you didn't think too much, to make sure you went to save them instead of getting help or alerting the Order. I was there to lead you right into their hands and like a lamb you went along with everything, just as I knew you would. You're so eager for everything to work out nicely and in your favor that you'll believe anything that even remotely hints at that outcome. "I trust you, Draco. I trust you!" You said over and over like a fool. Look where your trust has gotten you now."  
  
As Draco finished, he folded his arms over his chest. The door to the circular room opened admitting Rabastan and Bellatrix, who tossed Ron and Hermione on the ground. Each of them was a bloody, twisted mess much like Harry assumed he must look. He wasn't sure if they were dead or alive, they seemed so still. Harry watched his two housemates, begging them silently to breathe while the scar on his forehead began to throb.   
  
Somewhere, Voldemort was giddy with happiness.   
  
Harry turned his eyes back to Draco, hurt and betrayal replaced by bloody hatred. But, before he could push off the floor and attack him, magical ropes shot from the end of Draco's wand and curled around his body, forcing him to fall back to the floor painfully.   
  
"Do you see them, Potter," Draco drawled, tipping his chin towards Ron and Hermione. "That's the price people pay for being friends with Harry Potter. Now," He said, his eyes dead on Harry's face as he lifted Voldemort's wand again. "Let me show you the price for being a hero." 


End file.
